Harry Potter and Fates Gamble
by zane.rodrigues.14
Summary: A flash of confusion and suddenly 11 year old Harry Potter disappears from the Great Hall. In the midst of the chaos a stranger appears. Who is he and what lies in store for the magical world? An AU story beginning in Harry's first year. The first of a Time-Travel and training series.
1. Chapter 1

There was the thrum of conversation and the clinking of cutlery in the Great Hall as the students sat down to eat their evening meal. Professor Dumbledore had just completed his speech with the oddest statement many of them had ever heard. The older students were quite used to the Headmaster's eccentricities and gave it hardly any thought.

"Nitwit, Oddment, Blubber, Tweak!" seemed to be the strangest thing anyone could say at any point of time forgetting a welcome feast. The tables groaned under the weight of the scrumptious food that had magically appeared on the tables. The older students were catching up with their friends and acquaintances while the freshly sorted first years gaped around in awe and spoke to the ghosts.

Suddenly, there was a sound like thunder and all the floating candles flickered. The hair stood on people's arms and necks as an amazing amount of magic filled the air. With an almost supersonic whoosh, there appeared a young man, dressed all in black in front of the staff table. He seemed to have fallen out of the heavens. He stood for an instant and then collapsed with his eyes rolling into the back of his skull. There was an almighty gasp from the students and teachers alike and then there was silence.

It was in that silence that Hermione Granger suddenly screamed, pointing and screaming incoherently at the robes, tie, trousers, shirt, spectacles and wand that had suddenly clattered onto the bench at the Gryffindor table. For long seconds, nobody could move, and then Albus Dumbledore sprang into action. He walked quickly around the staff table with his wand out, muttering detection charms and checking the stranger for curses and enchantments even as he walked. He had not failed to notice the hysteria of one of the first-year students, a hysteria and panic that was quickly spreading at the Gryffindor table. He saw that Minerva was on her way there, so he focused on the stranger who had so startlingly appeared in their midst. He would suspect apparation but the build-up of magic preceding the event and the fact that it was impossible to apparate into or out of Hogwarts made that highly unlikely.

Professor McGonagall quickly walked over to her house table, noting them all talking at once and pointing at something on the bench that she could not see.

"Miss Granger, what has happened?" She asked sharply, displaying her formidable memory as she had only seen her name twice; once when they sent out the invitation letters, and once on the sorting list. The fact that she had so easily put a name to a new face went unnoticed by the thunderstruck children who had been sitting around that area.

"It was Harry Potter!" Hermione Granger exclaimed with a sob, pointing wildly at the clothes and accessories lying on the bench. "One moment he was there and the next, he…shimmered and then… disappeared! That's all that was left of him!" She sounded like she was going into shock. Professor McGonagall paled and examined the clothes and artifacts left behind. She had been looking forward to getting to know Harry and was delighted that he had been placed in her house. Now it seemed they had lost him before the term had begun. She quickly placed a stasis charm that would avoid any evidence tampering and hurried back to the staff table, where Dumbledore was still crouched over the prone and unconscious form of the stranger who had miraculously appeared.

"Albus!" She exclaimed as she neared the table, hand clutching her chest, "Albus! Harry Potter has disappeared!" She was short of breath as she hurried to the table. Albus Dumbledore seemed to age on the spot as he looked towards the Gryffindor table, taking in Percy Weasley doing a commendable job as a prefect and comforting the young Miss Granger. He felt a moment of despair as he pondered the loss of the first year student. No one but he knew the actual meaning of this loss. Harry Potter had a destiny to set the wizarding world free. His sharp mind quickly connected some dots and his face seemed to clear up. His eyes narrowed as he looked back at the stranger.

"My dear Professor, calm yourself." he said quietly, looking at her over his half-moon glasses. An inexplicable disappearance and an equally inexplicable appearance probably have something in common."

The Great Hall was filled with speculation as all the students craned their necks tring to get a look at the newcomer. Some of them, including a pair of red-haired twins, had even stood up on their seats to get a better look. The man was still unconscious, but did not look to be in any discomfort.

" _Enervate_." said Dumbledore, pointing his wand at the strange young man who seemed so at peace. The spell had no effect. His eyebrows raised, Dumbledore simply whispered "Interesting." under his breath as he turned to face the students in the Great Hall.

He calmly walked back to the podium in front of the Head table and raised his arms to get their attention. He allowed a little bit of his magic to infuse his voice as he addressed the students.

"My dear students, I'm sorry that your welcome feast has been disrupted in this manner. Please continue with your dinner while the Professors and I investigate this matter. Prefects please help the newly sorted students to the common rooms and their dorms. Classes will continue tomorrow as scheduled. Any questions can be directed towards Professors Flitwick or Quirrell." Dumbledore gestured behind him to the staff table, where the tiny Professor Flitwick stood up on his chair and gave the student body a small wave. Professor Quirrell simply looked nervous and _extremely_ curious as to the events that had unfolded.

There were whispers all around the room as the students speculated what he meant by "investigate the matter". He smiled at the naturally curious young minds around him and then raised his hands for silence again.

"Alas, we cannot conclude this magnificent meal with a rendition of the school song, but no matter, there will be other nights for that. I welcome you all to another year at Hogwarts and for those joining us for the first time let me assure you that occurrences like this are most uncommon, even for us!"

There were a few titters from the older students at that. He waited for them to subside, before adopting a more serious look. "Our older students know that the forbidden forest is out of bounds to all students, but I would like to give a word of warning to our newest students as well. The forbidden forest is in a word: forbidden." The new students had goggling eyes. The very name sounded ominous, and most of them couldn't imagine voluntarily going into it. Still, they were grateful for the warning. The Headmaster seemed to have more to say so they turned their attention back to them.

"I must inform you all that this year, the third floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."

There were a few laughs from around the room, that quickly died out as they realized that the Headmaster looked completely serious. There was some muttering by the older students and murmured conversation as the Headmaster stepped off the podium and walked back towards their unexpected guest.

Dumbledore levitated the stranger and started making his way out of the Great hall, signaling Professors McGonagall and Snape to come with him. He left behind a subdued and curious crowd of students and staff members.

He led the way to the Hospital wing, where Madam Poppy Pomfrey was still getting ready for the start of the term, no doubt dreading the number of students who would be traipsing in and out of the infirmary as soon as classes began. A magical school tended to have an astounding number of incidents and accidents throughout the school year and she was often up to her gills in work. Yet she wouldn't have it any other way. Hogwarts was the place she loved to be in, though she often forwent the feasts as the noise and the clamor of the entire student body at once was slightly more than she could stomach.

She was just enjoying a nice dinner by herself when the doors to the infirmary opened and the Headmaster walked in levitating someone she had never seen before in front of him, followed closely by the Professors.

She gasped and jumped out of her chair, her medical training kicking in instantly as she sent diagnostic spells at the young man even as she hurried towards them. She indicated a bed to levitate him onto, and then continued, while shooting questions at the Headmaster.

"Who is he?" she asked as her wand ran up and down his body, pausing at his head and at his chest before sweeping over the rest of him. "Where did he come from? Was he cursed? Hexed?"

"We do not know." came the soft answer from Severus Snape, who was as curious as he had ever been as a student, staring at this stranger. He was taken aback by the Minerva's report of the disappearance of Potter, who he had stared at with loathing as he got sorted. He was the image of his arrogant father, but those eyes still stirred something in his soul. Lily's eyes. To see them on a face so like the one that he had despised for nearly all his adult life had been quite a jolt.

Madam Pomfrey seemed to have finished her diagnostics and motioned them to come forward as she conjured a hospital smock and laid it on the bed near the stranger. She pulled the curtains around the bed shut and then turned to the attentive Professors.

"He is in perfectly good health." She noted relief on all the faces though she wondered what they would make of her next statement. "There is no sign of life in him." She even _felt_ ridiculous saying it after her previous statement.

"What _ever_ do you mean, Poppy?" asked McGonagall, looking at her quizzically.

"Well," she began, wondering how to explain this. "He is physically fine. His magical core is strong, stronger than any- _most_ people I've ever seen." She looked pointedly at the headmaster as she said this wanting to see his reaction. He was well known as one of the most powerful wizards alive. He inclined his head, gesturing for her to continue, not commenting on that at the moment though it made him more curious than ever.

"However," continued the confused Mediwitch, there is no mental activity within the young man. It's as if the lights are on but nobody is home." She winced internally, already marking this down as the _strangest_ diagnosis she had ever given.

"Interesting" said Albus Dumbledore again, looking at the closed curtain. "Who are you, I wonder." He seemed intrigued by it all and that was saying something for the 176-year-old wizard. He had seen a lot of things in his life, yet this left him stumped.

He had been actively fighting off his wave of panic at the disappearance of Harry Potter, a boy he had looked forward to watching as he went through his schooling. He could not understand how the boy could have disappeared from the middle of the Great Hall with everyone watching and the wards there on the school. He sighed as he looked towards the bed again.

"Keep me informed if his condition changes." he requested as he gestured to the other Professors to accompany him.

They walked briskly through the empty hallways of the school, heading back towards the Great Hall. They were each lost in their own thoughts and trying to come to terms with what they had witnessed.

The students were just finishing up with dessert as the Professors came striding back into the hall, generating another wave of whispers and questions. They walked up to the Gryffindor table to a spot that was an island of empty space on the bench.

The charm that McGonagall had placed on Harry's things was still intact as the three teachers carefully examined the area. Dumbledore was using his wand to check for any known magic or latent spells that could explain the disappearance.

Snape turned to the nearest student and barked out his questions. "You!" Ron Weasley almost spat out his pudding in his hurry to answer the scary looking man. "Y-Yes S-Sir?" He had gone deathly pale and looked towards his brothers for help, but they stared back at him, saying nothing.

"Tell me what you saw." Ron gulped a little. "I-I didn't s-see anything Professor. I only noticed that he was gone when Hermione Granger here started screaming!" He pointed towards the young witch, who he thought was quite obnoxious.

Hermione Granger was bursting to tell her story and she wasted no time walking up to the Professors. She seemed to have completely gotten over her shock over the events that had transpired.

"Excuse me, Professors," she was feeling quite nervous about talking to her soon to be teachers and the Headmaster as well, but she knew she had to tell them everything in case it helped with finding out where Harry Potter was.

"I was looking right at him when it happened. His eyes seemed to roll up into his head and his whole body sort of shimmered." The Professors were all watching and listening intently, since she was the only eye witness who had seen him disappear. "He - _shimmered_ -and then just – disappeared! It was like magic!" Hermione wanted to bite her tongue as the last bit slipped out of her. _Of course,_ it was magic! She mentally berated herself.

"I see." Said Professor Dumbledore gravely. "We will investigate this matter and find Harry."

"Please do not be overly concerned." He added kindly to the rest of the Gryffindor's who were eagerly hanging on his every word. He smiled blandly at Hermione and made a small shooing motion with his hands, excusing the girl who seemed a little over-awed to be talking to the Headmaster.

The Great Hall was filled with the sounds of benches scraping and shuffling feet as the students made their way to the dormitories. They were much more subdued than they usually were at the start of term.

It was a most unusual start to a new year.

Dumbledore _had_ expected the unexpected when it came to Harry Potter, but this was something else entirely. He vowed to find out where the boy was and who had managed to get him out of the castle despite the many wards and protections on it.

He sighed and turned to the other Professors. "There's nothing we can do as of now but wait until that young man wakes up in the infirmary. Minerva, do ask Poppy to let me know as soon as he does." McGonagall nodded tersely and walked away, presumably to the infirmary.

"Trust a Potter to create a ruckus on his first day in the school." growled Snape as he watched McGonagall walk away. He hadn't dared say anything in front of her, knowing that she was fiercely protective of her "lion cubs" as she called them. Dumbledore simply looked at Snape and said nothing for a moment, but he exuded disappointment.

"Severus, I would ask you to try to look beyond the boy's resemblance to his father and try to get to know the person beneath. I, for one, am most interested in knowing what kind of person Harry has become and what kind of wizard he will grow into." He started to walk away before he turned back and softly said "He may have more of Lily in him that just his eyes."

Snape had an unfathomable look on his face as he watched the Headmaster walk out of the Great Hall, before turning on his heel and heading to the dungeons to his own quarters. Strange beginnings indeed.

Albus Dumbledore sat in his office and contemplated the happenings of the evening. It was an unusual start to a new year to say the least. He had been looking forward to Harry Potter rejoining the magical world and was hoping to mentor the boy for the task he had ahead of him. It was disturbing that he had somehow been whisked away from the school and the aged headmaster was more that certain that it had something to do with the dark-haired stranger who had appeared in the Great Hall. He did not believe in coincidence after his many years of tenure as headmaster and all the things he had seen over his long and interesting life.

Some instinct in him was keeping him calm although he realized that if the stranger could not explain the disappearance of Harry Potter he was going to be in a very unenviable position when he tried to explain to the magical world and the boy's relatives how exactly he had managed to allow this to happen.

He sighed as he chose and ate a lemon drop, closing his eyes in pleasure as he took in the sweet and sour flavor of his favorite sweet. It was going to be a _long_ night, as the wheels in his mind kept turning.

Severus Snape sat below in his quarters in the dungeons, slowly sipping on a goblet of Firewhisky as he thought about the events of the night. He didn't know any magic that could penetrate the wards of the school. Even at the height of his powers, the Dark Lord had not managed it. It left him intrigued to know that someone had. The sheer _force_ of magic he had felt in the Hall was unimaginable.

Not many people knew it, but although he was a gifted potioneer, a prodigy some might say and a master in his field, he was also a scholar of magic. He had spent several years involved in his own research and while potions would always be his first love, he still had a deep longing for deeper knowledge in all subjects. It was one of the things that had led him to take up a teaching position in a school even though he almost loathed teaching the younger years.

He took a sip and grimaced as he realized that, if found, Harry Potter would be one of his new students, no doubt bumbling around and putting everyone in danger with the volatile mixtures they were supposed to know by the end of their first year. He often felt that potions should be introduced to more steady hands and minds, yet also knew that a strong foundation was an absolute necessity to turn out potioneers of any worth. He drained his glass and stood, preparing to retire for the night, for who knew what the morning would bring.

The dawn was breaking as Albus Dumbledore rose from his slumber and donned his robes, ready for a new day in which students would begin their journey down the path of learning. A silver patronus appeared in front of him. It was a swan that spoke in the voice of Minerva McGonagall.

"Albus, Poppy thinks the young man is about to awaken. Please come to the Hospital wing."

With spry steps that belied his age, he walked quickly to his fireplace, deciding to forgo the walk through the castle in exchange for the time he would save.

He appeared in a flash of green flames in the Hospital wing, noticing that the curtains were still closed around the man's bed and that Severus, Minerva and Poppy were standing around the bed and talking in hushed tones.

"Good Morning Everyone." Said Dumbledore as he stepped up to join them. "I trust you all slept well." A few sour looks and a small snort from Snape was all the response he got. "Shall we check on our young patient?" He asked, deferring to Madame Pomfrey as he was in her domain. She gave him a quick nod and moved the curtains aside.

They were all taken aback to see the stranger looking quite comfortable. His legs were crossed at the ankles, and his arms were crossed behind his head. He didn't open his eyes, but they could tell he was awake.

"Good Morning. I'm Professor Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. You are currently in our Hospital wing. May I inquire as to who you are?"

There was a moment of silence before he spoke. His voice was quite low, and he didn't change his position or open his eyes.

"Who else is here?" he asked softly. The Professors exchanged looks. He had not answered the question about himself. Dumbledore decided to play along and be polite, not wanting to scare the man with an untoward show of his magical strength.

"You are in the presence of Professors Snape and McGonagall, as well as Madame Pomfrey, who is the school Mediwitch and the woman who is taking care of you. Is there anything we can get for you Mr...?" Albus trailed off, hoping to catch the young man off-guard and get a response. All he got was a small smirk and the man still hadn't changed his position. Snape was bristling at this blatant disrespect and was about to speak when a hand on his arm stopped him. He looked askance of the Headmaster only to get a small shake of the head.

"I need information." he stated quietly. His next question had them stunned. "What year is it?" There was a gasp from both McGonagall and Pomfrey. Snape simply looked shocked and Dumbledore bemused.

"It is the year 1995." Said Dumbledore, scrutinizing the reaction this information would have. The man's face scrunched up a little as if he was concentrating on something and then his face went blank again.

"Has Harry Potter come to Hogwarts?" was his next question. It caused even Dumbledore to look startled. He looked at his colleagues as they all looked to him, wondering what he should say. He wondered why the stranger had asked about Harry of all people. McGonagall gave him a knowing look, because he had been so sure that the disappearance and appearance had been linked. This seemed to be proof that it indeed was. He decided to tell the truth.

"Mr. Harry Potter has indeed come to Hogwarts." He saw the man let out a breath that he had been holding and then saw him stiffen as he continued. "However, young Mr. Potter disappeared from the Great Hall during our welcome feast. At the same time as when you...joined us from wherever you have come."

" _Disappeared?!_ " He exclaimed, seeming to lose his casual attitude for a minute. He still lay in the same position though. They silently watched him as he seemed to digest this information. They all reached for their wands as he swung his legs off the bed and sat on the side of it, eyes still closed. "Disappeared." He whispered again, almost to himself. "Well that was unexpected. 1995. Who knew." He seemed to be mumbling to himself and the others were wondering about his sanity.

"Ahem." Dumbledore cleared his throat and stepped a little forward. "Would you happen to know something about Mr. Potter's whereabouts, young man?"

There was a silence again. Before the boy opened his eyes and looked right into Dumbledore's wise blue ones.

There was a gasp from all four of them this time.

"You might say that, Professor. I do indeed know something about his whereabouts."

He took in the stunned looks on their faces as they all saw his bright green emerald eyes.

The teachers stood in shock as the young man casually stood up and stretched his arms above his head.

Snape moved to raise his wand, only to have Dumbledore stop him again. He shot the headmaster a look of disgust as he lowered his arm, wondering what the old man was thinking allowing this stranger to roam around free with impunity.

"H-Harry?" Stammered Professor McGonagall, staring at the young man in shock, unable to comprehend what was happening in front of her eyes.

If she had to put an age to him, she'd say he was around 20 years old, 6 feet tall at least and with a physique that suggested a lot of exercise or manual labor. He was dressed all in black, with black jeans a long sleeved black t-shirt and a black dragon-hide vest that seemed to have been made from the hide of a Hungarian Horntail.

She didn't see a wand on him, though she supposed he could have anything up his sleeve. He turned to her and she was taken aback by the amount of pain she saw in his eyes.

"Hello, Minnie." He said with a soft smile, seeming to enjoy the startled look on all their faces at the nick name that only her sister, niece and closest friends called her, before tiredly scrubbing his face with his hands and making eye contact with the others in the room.

"Severus." He said, with a sardonic smile on his face. Snape looked the most flabbergasted look out of all of them.

Severus Snape had a blank look on his face looking like he'd just seen a ghost. Everything he knew about magic was telling him that this was not possible. This could not possibly be Harry Potter in front of them. Although between the disappearance of the boy and the strange appearance of this man who had eyes he would never forget, he had to admit it was looking more and more probable that he was telling the truth.

Dumbledore looked lost in thought, though also at a loss for words as he stared at the young man in front of him, his mind whirring with a thousand thoughts. From what the man had said he was Harry Potter, and Harry Potter had just disappeared from the Great Hall. It made no sense. Hence, it must be true.

"Mr. Potter, I believe we have a great deal to discuss. Please follow me to my office and help me understand exactly what is going on here. I can tell you have a great story to tell."

"Albus." The boy's eyes seemed to narrow a little in dislike, much to his alarm, as he spoke. He was taken aback by the familiarity that the young man was showing with all of them. None of their first names seemed to sit strangely on his tongue. He seemed to _know_ all of them, yet he had never met them before. A conundrum if there ever was one.

Harry nodded slowly, looking around the hospital room at everyone present. He sent a small smile towards Madame Pomfrey who stood all but forgotten in the shock of the events unfolding.

"Yes, Headmaster, we do indeed have a great deal to discuss and it should be in private." He looked pointedly at the other Professors. "I will tell you what I can and then you decide who should be privy to the information." He suddenly looked all business like, standing with the air of someone used to getting things done quickly and precisely. If he was taken aback by the shell-shocked expressions on everyone's face, he didn't really show it. His face was a blank mask that betrayed nothing.

Dumbledore merely glanced at his incredulous colleagues and gestured for Harry to follow him out of the Hospital wing. He was looking forward to this conversation. He could sense a great story and great magic involved.

They walked in silence, the students probably already in the Great Hall for breakfast. Dumbledore was watching Harry out of the corner of his eye, and was surprised to see a wistful, nostalgic look on his face as he gazed around the school. Albus could swear he saw him tear up a little before he blinked, and his eyes looked as clear green as before. He had a lot of questions for the young man. A most important one was why he had no lightning bolt scar on his forehead. The headmaster vividly recalled not doing anything about it when he had left him in Privet Drive. But then again, was this even the same boy?

Harry Potter looked around his old school with a great deal of nostalgia. He loved this place. It was great seeing it as it used to be, with the suits of armor standing proud in the alcoves and the torches burning merrily in their sconces, casting shadows on the walls. Portraits collected over centuries lined the walls, and they all were a flurry of motion and color as they walked down the corridors. He had a sudden mental flash of the last time he had seen his school.

 _Smoke was rising from the ruined floors and there were suits of armor lying broken, dented, blackened and burnt with pieces strewn here and there like garbage. There were broken picture frames, their charms worn off by their destruction with blank canvas staring out of most of them. A small part of the floor was still smoking from the torch that had been torn off a portion of wall that was broken. The worst part of it all were the bodies. They were strewn about haphazardly much like the suits of armor. There were dismembered limbs scattered across and thick, gelatinous blood that was half clotted pooled on the floors. It hadn't mattered if the bodies belonged to Half-bloods, Pure Bloods, Muggle borns or squibs. Their blood had all pooled on the floor in the aftermath. Hundreds were dead. It was horrible, but it hadn't been the first battle field he had seen._

Harry mentally shook himself as he came back to the present, pondering how to tell his story to the Headmaster without sounding insane. They'd lock him up in St. Mungo's if they didn't believe him. He'd have to tread carefully while sharing his tale of war and suffering with these people who were in no way ready for what the magical world would become in just a few short years.

They ascended the spiral staircase, each lost in their own thoughts as they rose gracefully to the office door. It opened of its own accord and Dumbledore gestured for Harry to step in before him. As he walked in, he looked around, seeming to be lost in thought. It had been years since he had last stepped into this office looking the way it did now. 4 years to be precise.

A warm note of Phoenix song welcomed them to the Headmaster's office as they stepped in. "Hello Fawkes" smiled Harry, feeling calm and strength wash into him with the soft sound.

If Dumbledore was startled that Harry knew the name of his familiar, he didn't show it. He merely gestured to the seat opposite his and waited with his hands on his desk, giving the young man all his attention. There was a lot of information to be gleaned from the conversation and he couldn't wait to get to the bottom of the mystery this man had proved himself to be.

Harry sat and looked around the room, taking in the whirring instruments and the portraits of the previous Headmasters and Headmistresses of the school. The portrait of Godric Gryffindor gave him a small bow, which he hoped Dumbledore hadn't noticed. He had a lot of explaining to do but he wanted to keep it simple. It was going to be a lot for everyone to digest anyway.

The Headmaster was still looking at him expectantly, so he reluctantly turned his attention away from the room and took a deep breath.

"As you've no doubt surmised or suspected, I am from the future. Ten years from the future to be precise." He waited for a reaction. He knew this was going to be the most difficult thing for them to accept, but once they did he was sure the rest of his task would be made easier.

He wasn't disappointed. The Headmaster frowned, pressing the bridge of his nose as if staving off a headache. "There is no magic that can send someone so far back in the past, Mr. Potter. A time-turner can -"

"It wasn't a time-turner. And call me Harry" interrupted the emerald-eyed youth, wanting to intervene before the man confused himself with speculation. He paused for a moment, seeing the Headmaster attentive again, seeming to brush off the rude interruption. The Professor gave a small nod of acknowledgment to call him "Harry" before making a gesture for him to continue his tale.

Harry took another deep breath. "It was a combination of Fawkes' magic and the Veil of Death in the department of Mysteries." Fawkes crooned a little as if in response to hearing his name.

Albus gasped and sat back in his throne-like chair. He certainly _had_ been speculating, but this had _not_ been something he had been expecting. He knew that the department of mysteries was fanatic about their secrecy. The only reason _he_ knew about the Veil was that he had been called in to examine it, as one of the foremost learned people in the magical world. It was well known that he was a brilliant mind, with vast knowledge of magic and its foundations, as well as history, artifacts and theorizing what could happen with experimenting with artifacts. However, the black shroud that waved about absent wind and made some people hear whispers of the dead had not yielded up its secrets even to him, and he had accepted that it's mystery would never be solved, at least in his lifetime.

"That is…surprising…to say the least." He observed, recovering from his surprise and focusing on the troubled face of the young man in front of him. "We have examined the Veil and found no way to understand its intent, nor its creation."

Harry sighed and scrubbed his face. It seemed to be something he did quite often. "It doesn't really have much to do with time, but it _does_ have a lot to do with space. It's a doorway or _gateway_ between two portals." He could see that Dumbledore was enraptured with the new knowledge and smiled a little to himself. The man was a scholar and an intellectual above all.

"In a time of great sorrow and great strife, Fawkes and myself combined our magic and I went through this gateway to get…here." He looked around the office again, while gesturing with his arms.

He still didn't know how to impart all the knowledge he had of the things to come. He was most worried that any action they took would change how things turned out. He had already created an alternate reality by coming back. He had no idea what repercussions his actions had already had. There were very good reasons why wizards had not learned time manipulation. It was simply too complicated to predict what would happen. It had been a last-ditch effort to save wizarding Britain that had led to the mad scheme he had gone through with.

"I don't know why I was sent to this particular time, but I suspect because it would mitigate the damage done to the magical world the most."

Fawkes trilled, as if in agreement. Harry wondered if the amazingly beautiful bird had retained his memories of the time that hadn't yet occurred. A sad and knowing look from the phoenix and a sad warbling note confirmed to him that he did indeed have knowledge of the terrible things that were to come.

Dumbledore intently observed the interaction between the two of them, his considerable intellect already in a tail spin as to what could have possibly happened for such drastic measures to be taken. If there was one thing he had learned in all his many years it was that time was not to be trifled with. It was a magic beyond what they could understand and as per his knowledge, flowed in only one direction. To be sitting across from somebody who had reversed the stream had him riveted. He realized that he still needed to ask about his missing student, though he supposed the man sitting in front of him was answer enough. This was going to be a long meeting, he surmised.


	2. Chapter 2

Harry sat back in his chair, contemplating the Headmaster, who stared back at him just as intently. He obviously believed him. Now it was going to be time to implement all the changes he needed them to make so that the future he had come from wouldn't happen. There was so much to do.

There were Horcruxes to find, wraiths to banish, a basilisk to deal with, a traitor to imprison, a Godfather to free, prisoners to ensure didn't ever get released and a few ministry officials to reprimand and imprison. It was going to be a long and hard task. He realized that he needed every single advantage he could get, but Harry was also wary of altering the timeline to the point where he wouldn't know what was coming. He was in quite a conundrum and was hoping that the venerable Headmaster could help him overcome the obstacles he was sure to face. The soft sound of the Headmaster clearing his throat called Harry back from his ruminations. He pinched the bridge of his nose as he tried to prioritize the things that needed to be done. Quirrell was first on the list. He knew that Voldemort in his wraith form was more connected to his disembodied soul pieces than when was possessing someone or when he was in reconstructed body of his own. This was his chance to rid them of the most easily accessible Horcrux right now. The one here at Hogwarts. Yet to do that he needed the sword of Gryffindor to come out of the hat. He needed to get the goblin forged blade coated with basilisk venom that would render it a weapon capable of destroying Horcruxes.

"Do you know what a Horcrux is, Headmaster?" He asked quietly, intense green eye seeking truth in the Headmaster's blue ones. He wasn't worried about Legilimency. It had been a long time since anybody could breach his Occlumency shields. He saw the Headmaster rear back in his seat, flabbergasted.

Albus Dumbledore was shocked, and not for the first time that morning. Of all the questions he expected Harry to ask him, this was not one he had expected. To even speak of magic as vile as that brought a sour taste to the light wizard's mouth.

"That is dark magic, Harry. Extremely dark magic. From what I know from my readings, a Horcrux is a soul-vessel. A deliberate split part of a persons soul, to ensure that they do not leave the mortal plane when their body is destroyed. There are very few references to it in easily available books, and they have not believed to be in existence since Morgana LeFay used them. Nobody knows much about their creation or limitations. It's simply not magic that is spoken, written or even _thought_ about by sane, light wizards." Harry let him speak uninterrupted, feeling a little sorry for the rude shock he was going to give the Headmaster in the next few minutes.

Albus Dumbledore stared at the youth in front of him as certain parts of the puzzle clicked into place for him. The reason why he was sure that Voldemort was still alive, lurking on this mortal plane when in reality the rebounded killing curse should have killed him. He had managed to make a Horcrux. Ir was the only explanation that made sense.

"He managed to make a Horcrux?" he asked tentatively, dreading the answer but knowing instinctively that he was right.

"Voldemort has made Horcruxes." He stated it as plainly as he could, not wanting to beat around the bush as the Headmaster was wont to do. He saw him start again. He was feeling quite sorry for the old man, knowing that he had had years to assimilate information that he was going to give him in a few minutes. For some reason he felt a sense of urgency. A sense of impending doom, as if he needed to share the information as soon as possible and begin taking every possible step towards the defeat of Voldemort.

The Headmaster seemed lost in thought for a moment, and then he looked up sharply at Harry. "You said _Horcruxes?!_ He has made more than one?!" The shock was evident on his face and it seemed he was having difficult processing what he was hearing. Harry decided to put the man out of his misery and give him all the information in one go.

"Horcruxes. Plural. He made seven. Voldemort believes that seven is the most sacred, and powerful number magically and has split his soul _seven_ times." He saw the old man turn pale and his blue eyes lost every vestige of a twinkle as he digested this information.

"Do you know how a Horcrux is created Headmaster?" Harry asked out of curiosity. He really wanted to know at what point the Headmaster had really understood what Tom Riddle had done and what it meant. He also wanted to know if even this early on, the master strategist had an inkling that a piece of Voldemort's soul lived in Harry. Of course it didn't any more. The trip through the veil had worked because he had given up Voldemort's soul, tricking the ancient artifact into thinking it was his own.

This was the only reason he was the only person alive who had gone through the veil and come out of it. He had of course taken this into consideration while formulating his plan before convincing Fawkes to help him with it. He had realized that he was a Horcrux in the original timeline while working on his Occlumency shields. He had found a version of Riddle living in his head, feeding off his magic and biding it's time. What had ensued was a battle of wills of epic proportions, until he had finally overcome the soul shard. The only reason he was able to do that was because of his newly created shields, and the fact that in his own mind he was more powerful than Voldemort's soul-shard. He shuddered when he thought about what the consequences would have been had he succumbed. There would have been two powerful versions of Voldemort working together to subjugate the wizarding world. It would have been the end for everyone. He had fortunately managed to over-power the piece of soul and bind it to his will. He had imprisoned it in his own mind, behind shields that could only be manipulated by himself, giving Voldemort no power over him.

He had then learned a lot from this fragment of Riddle's soul. He had learned magic dark and ancient, and the rituals that the self-proclaimed "Lord" had gone through in efforts to enhance his magic and make himself immortal. He had learned the Dark Lord's thoughts and his magic. He had uncovered his secrets. He was very sure that he knew more about Voldemort than any person alive except for Voldemort.

Unfortunately, that soul shard was one that was created accidentally on the night Voldemort had tried to kill him and hence he only knew whatever the Dark Lord knew until that fateful night. The intervening eleven years were unknown to him. He knew that he still had to categorize the knowledge, and that having the knowledge wouldn't directly translate into him having the same skills or experience, but he hoped to use the next few years to perfect those so that when Voldemort came back, he was ready to send him to the deepest, darkest hell from where there was no return.

As it was, that part of Voldemort's soul had been claimed by the Veil of Death as tribute. No living man passed through the veil unscathed. But then no living man had more than one soul inhabiting him, usually. It had been Hermione who had thought of it, which researching an ancient tome, in the hopes of some forgotten magic to defeat the Dark Lord. There she had learned that the Veil of Death stripped the soul out of a person, and their body was rendered into pure energy. She knew Harry had a piece of Voldemort's soul inside him and realized that they could use this if they could change what happened to his body. Sadly she was killed after she had completed the arithmancy calculations that would be needed, and had come up with a way for Fawkes to mitigate the magic that turned the body into pure energy.

The Headmaster didn't seem capable of speech as of yet. He seemed lost in his own thoughts, so Harry answered his own question. "Murder. Cold-blooded, premeditated, remorseless murder. Of course, there is a ritual that separates the soul from the caster, and then binds it to the vessel, but the main prerequisite in the creation of a Horcrux is murder. Bad enough to do it once. Riddle did it seven times."

The Headmaster wasn't listening again. His mind was categorizing all the facts he knew about Tom Riddle and he was avidly looking into the past to try and see if he had missed any signs that his erstwhile student had walked down such a dark and irredeemable path. He had know Tom since he was eleven. He had always known there was something off about the boy and had watched him carefully during his years at Hogwarts. He knew that Tom had opened the Chamber of Secrets in his fifth year, and that Rubeus Hagrid was innocent. He still had no idea what kind of creature or monster the dark haired teen had commanded but he knew that Myrtle Wintle had been a casualty of Tom Riddle's quest for power.

Following his graduation there had been scant news of the magical prodigy. He popped up here and there as people spoke of the absolute waste of a brilliant mind like his working for the antique store called Borgin and Burkes, but not much more was known. And then there had been a period of silence, during which the world had no idea where Tom Riddle had disappeared. As far as most were concerned, the brilliant ex-Head Boy of Hogwarts had vanished, never to be seen again.

Then had started the rumors and the deaths and the disappearances. People were walking the streets afraid of a new Dark Lord. One more terrible than any that had come before them. More terrible than Gellert Grindelwald and Morgana LeFay. There were whispers of an immortal being who was terrifying and magically powerful. Then the rumors became fact. The Death Eaters surfaced and the reign of terror began. Nobody connected this Dark Lord with the once handsome and charismatic Tom Riddle. Nobody but Dumbledore. Now as he looked back, he realized that many of the changes he had witnessed in Tom were probably the result of splitting his soul. Nobody knew what other dark rituals the man had dug out of the annals of the past or created himself to make himself the monster that he was.

"I know how a Horcrux is created." said Dumbledore hoarsely, still reeling in shock at what he had learned. He was most curious as to how Harry Potter had come across this information. It wasn't something the Dark Lord would want bandied about after all.

"How did you come by this information?" asked Dumbledore, looking more weary and defeated than Harry had ever seen him look. "I'm sure this is information that Lord Voldemort would not want spoken about, and knowing how secretive he has always been, even as a child, it seems like the kind of knowledge he would not want anyone to have. It leaves me wondering how you have come by this information."

Harry wondered how to answer that question. He was half tempted to relate his entire story to the Headmaster, beginning with his first year and the philosopher's stone. Yet he knew that with the disappearance of his younger, alternative self from the Great Hall, there was a high chance that Voldemort, who was possessing Quirrell at the moment might up his timeline and make a play for the Philosopher's stone much earlier than he had in the previous timeline. There was no possible way that Voldemort was not curious as to how his arch nemesis had disappeared from under the wards. He decided to stave off the entire story and act on the things he could change right now.

"That is a long and complicated story, which will have to wait for another time." Some vindictive part of Harry enjoyed playing the man his own cards. He was more than a little upset at the way the headmaster had guarded information in the previous timeline. He could understand his reasoning but he didn't like it nonetheless.

"There are things in motion, things that must not be allowed to come to pass. I must make the most of the foreknowledge I have to ensure a better outcome." Dumbledore didn't look too pleased with that so Harry decided to placate him. "I will of course, share everything I know with you as soon as is prudent, but as of now I think our best course of action is to _take_ action." The Headmaster gave a short, jerky nod to that, and gestured for Harry to continue.

"The philosopher's stone. Voldemort is after it. He is currently in the school, possessing one Quinerus Quirrell." Dumbledore leaped out of his chair at that tidbit, his blue eyes flashing. "How could you have not told me _that_ in the first place?" He demanded, displaying his aura. Harry would have been intimidated if he didn't know that the Headmaster didn't mean him any harm personally. He held up both his hands in the universal gesture to stop. And waited for the aged man to resume his seat. "Please. There is more at stake than you can possibly imagine. He is not a threat to the students yet and I will make sure he is taken care off well before he thinks about harming them. Please, Albus. Sit down."

Albus Dumbledore still seemed poised to rush off down the staircase and apprehend the possessed professor. Harry sighed. Perhaps he wasn't imparting this knowledge in the best manner, which would ensure that things went according to his plan. He would have to reveal more of his knowledge of the future to bring the Headmaster back to the present.

"There is a Horcrux hidden in Hogwarts. Riddle used the time he came to see you about being the Defense against the Dark Arts teacher to hide it here in the castle." Dumbledore was still standing, breathing a little heavily and looking like he would dash down the stairs at any given moment. He took a few calming breaths and then sat back down in his throne like chair. "Where is it?"

Harry smiled wryly. "Do you recall a chamber full of chamber pots?" Dumbledore gave him a watery smile and nodded. "I have indeed come across such a chamber during my night time wanderings of this school. I never imagined it contained a part of the soul of the most evil wizard who has ever lived. It seems fitting though.

Harry outright laughed at that. Voldemort's soul in a chamber pot. The mental image left him chortling at the thought of what the Dark Lord would think about their little joke.

"It is called the "Come and Go Room", or the "Room of Hidden Things", or the "Room of Requirement". It is a chamber built by the founders, with astounding magic. It creates that which the user requires the most at any given point of time. A phenomenal piece of Magic." Harry paused, to clear his throat. He was quite parched after speaking for so long. The Headmaster seemed to gauge his discomfort and conjured him a tall glass of water. Nodding his thanks, Harry drained half the glass before putting it down with a contented sigh.

"In his time at Hogwarts, Tom Riddle discovered this room as a place he could hide things. I don't think he ever discovered the true capabilities of the room. Which is fortunate for us, as he could have probably become even more formidable than he was had he discovered the training capabilities of the room." Dumbledore was listening intently with a glass of water of his own in his hands. He was always fascinated to discover something new about the school that had been his home for most of his life.

He knew the castle very well, thanks to the wards that were his duty to maintain, yet there always seemed like there were more secrets to be discovered, more hidden places and more lore and history embedded into the very walls of the castle. He knew that some of his students had found secret passages around the school and out of it. He knew quite a few of them himself but he was also sure there were many others that had failed to come to notice, forgotten over the course of the long and glorious and sometimes bloody history of the magnificent castle. Yet he had never heard of this room. You learn something new every day, he mused to himself. He waited for Harry to continue, wondering how the youth proposed to get rid of the Horcrux.

"In my timeline, I discovered a few of Voldemort's Horcruxes and destroyed them. Fortunately, this was one of them. I know where it is and I know what it is. Unfortunately there are very few things that can destroy a Horcrux." Harry stated plainly. He was hoping that the Headmaster knew of a way to destroy the Horcrux without destroying the vessels. After all, some of them were priceless artifacts of the founders. If there was a way to remove the monster's soul from it without destroying the artifact that would be ideal.

"Fiendfyre." The Headmaster mumbled, almost to himself. He was loath to unleash such magic, as it was difficult to control and could burn down the entire castle in minutes.

Harry nodded his head in acknowledgment. "Yes, Fiendfyre is one way to get rid of them. There are others." He had been toying with the idea of throwing the objects through the veil and asking Fawkes to mitigate the damage to the physical object while allowing the veil to claim the soul-shard. It was a long shot. He glanced at Fawkes and looked into his wise, ancient eyes. He suddenly got the mental feeling from the swan-sized bird that it couldn't be done and that the only reason he had been able to do it for Harry's body was that his body was organic. Fawkes could not manipulate life into an object that had no life. Harry nodded his head at the bird to show that he understood. It would have to be the sword.

"Basilisk venom is another way." Dumbledore looked mildly amused. "Where on earth would you find basilisk venom Harry? The last reported Basilisk was in the sixteen hundreds. They are extinct and thank Merlin for that. Dangerous beasts. Among the most dangerous to have ever existed on the earth."

Harry was tempted to laugh at the absurdity of this situation. He knew that old man was in for another rude shock when he realized that Hogwarts was home to a thousand year old basilisk that had grown to eighty feet long in the intervening years, and that it was as thick as an old oak tree. He could imagine the apoplexy the old man was going to display as Harry revealed yet another threat to his students. HE took a deep, cleansing breath. He had to do this right, or the old man would go off half-cocked and ruin everything. It was not in Albus Dumbledore's nature to take the back seat and allow someone else to make the important decisions. He stifled his mirth, knowing that it wasn't really funny and that his was laughter out of the sheer frustration he felt at the number of forces working against them.

"Do you trust me, Albus?" he asked quietly, looking the man in the eye. He was inordinately pleased when he got a firm nod of the head with absolutely no hesitation. Good. That was important. He decided to make a vow to ensure that the Headmaster would do things his way.

"I, Harry James Potter, swear on my life and my magic that everything I reveal today is the truth. Furthermore, I swear to never knowingly endanger the life of any resident of this castle by my actions. So mote it be." There was a golden flash of magic as his vow was accepted, and Harry felt relived that it would now be easier to convince Dumbledore of things. He half wished that he had thought to do this before, although he wasn't completely dissatisfied with the way the conversation had gone.

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow at him, but didn't say anything at all. If he was taken aback by the vow, he didn't show it. Taking magical vows had been more common when he had been young, but as people lost their honor and integrity they had fallen out of fashion because of their irrevocable nature. It was impressive to see someone make a vow like that confident in their ability to ensure that it's conditions would be met. He was feeling more relieved about Quirrell, now that he knew that Harry was duty bound to take care of him before there were any repercussions to the students or staff. He looked intently at the youth in front of him, wondering what he would get to learn or see next. He was surprised when Harry stood up and walked to the sorting hat which was on a shelf on the side.

He nodded his permission at the unasked question, when Harry turned and raised his eyebrows at him. Then he furrowed his brow as the strange young man put the hat on his head and seemed to be having a conversation with it for quite a while.

"Well, well. What have we here?" said the small voice that Harry remembered vividly. "Back so soon, Potter? Changed your mind about Slyther – My word!"

The hat broke off, seeming flabbergasted at what he was seeing. "How is this possible?" he hissed into Harry's mind, frantically searching through his memories. "You have memories of events that could not have possibly taken place yet! What magic is this, Potter?!"

"Time magic. It's hard to explain." Harry thought out, noting with interest that the hat seemed to bypass his Occlumency shields as if they weren't there.

"Dangerous magic, Potter. Very, very dangerous magic." The hat said primly, perusing more of his memories of the war to come. Harry winced as the hat viewed a memory that showed an event that had taken place shortly before he had gone through the veil. It had been a Death Eater meeting in a clearing in Nottinghamshire. Harry and his friends had been ruthless that day. Breaking bones, casting hexes and putting the Death Eaters down hard. Many of them died that day, including George Weasley and Michael Corner. They had killed seven of Voldemort's Death Eaters, including Marcus Avery, who was known to be a mass murderer, rapist, arsonist and torturer. The rest had been low level Death Eaters who had recently joined the cause.

"No mercy to your enemies, eh Potter?" the hat thought snidely as he went through other memories of fights with Death Eaters, as well as the three times that he had duelled Voldemort himself. "You have become powerful Potter. Very powerful. My word. I don't think I've ever come across such power more than four times in my entire thousand years of existence. Power corrupts, Potter. Don't forget that."

Harry gritted his teeth at the sanctimonious hat, and decided to ask for what he wanted. "I need the sword. I am a Gryffindor and I need the sword. It is needed to save the school and to save the students."

The hat seemed to be considering this. He heard or rather felt it gasp. "You are of Godric's line! How did I miss that when I sorted you?" Harry was a little confused about that as well. The most logical explaination he could come up with was that at the time, he hadn't known it himself. Yet the hat was not done. He felt it start again. "You are also the Heir to Salazar Slytherin! How...?" the hat trailed off, probably getting the human equivalent of a headache through his revelations.

"Through conquest. I defeated the Heir of Slytherin. Several times. Magic itself deemed the title and line forfeit to me." Harry explained. This was taking too long. "I _need_ the sword, hat. It was placed in your care to be delivered to a Gryffindor in need. I _am_ Lord Gryffindor and I am in need. Do your duty!"

He felt the hat acquise to his wishes and was about to tell him not to drop the sword on his head when he felt a thunk on the top of his skull and he saw stars for a moment. Bloody hat, he grumbled to himself as he whipped it off his head.

He reverently wrapped his hand around the familiar silver handle, taking in the ruby on the pommel guard and the engraving on the bottom of the blade. Godric Gryffindor. The Headmaster stood with his mouth open in a comical 'O' as Harry drew the ancient and glorious blade from the hat. Fawkes burst into song as the sword's magic connected with Harry, much the same way a wand does. A gust of wind blew through the room and there was a shower of red and gold sparks as Harry held the blade aloft.

"This can destroy Horcruxes, Headmaster." Harry stated blandly, turning to the astonished man beside him. It was finally beginning.


	3. Chapter 3

The Headmaster stared at the young man who had turned his world on it's head in the space of a few hours. Legend spoke of Godric Gryffindor's blade. It was said that it would remain concealed until it was needed the most and would make itself available to anyone who loved the school that Gryffindor had devoted his life to, if they had a need of it. There had surely been times in the past when the sword had been needed but no one had thought to ask the old speaking, thinking sorting hat. Which now in retrospect seemed quite ridiculous since it was rumored to be Gryffindor's hat in the first place.

He stared in awe at the Goblin-forged blade, with a blood-channel running down the middle. Even standing away from it, it was evident that the blade was sharp. As sharp as the day it had been forged so long ago. The blood ruby in the pommel shone as if it had been polished a few minutes ago. He stared for what seemed like a million years at this magnificent piece of history that was in front of him, which had been so near and so far for the many, many years he had lived at Hogwarts.

"A magnificent blade. Goblin-forged if I'm not mistaken. Yet, Harry, I fear you are mistaken. Although highly magical and wonderfully wrought, this blade cannot destroy a Horcrux." He paused, thinking about how confident this young man was in his behavior and the fact that he knew a lot of things that the headmaster himself did not. "Unless there's something about it I don't know?" he trailed off, his eyes never having left the sword.

Harry gave a small smile. It felt odd to have the shoe on the other foot. He was so used to turning to Dumbledore for answers that it was a strange feeling indeed to know that the Headmaster was following his lead in this situation and deferring to his knowledge.

"You are forgetting one important feature of a Goblin-forged blade, Headmaster. It only imbibes that which makes it stronger." The Professor nodded at that, that wasn't new information.

"Yet I fail to see how we can imbibe Fiendfyre into the blade, my boy. It sounds impossible...or at least inordinately difficult to do."

Giving the man a small smile, Harry gestured for them to resume their seats as he carefully placed the sword aside, leaning against the desk. He would have to find a scabbard for it as soon as possible; it was simply too sharp to be left lying around. One could easily lose a limb by falling across the blade. Trying to quell his moment of dark amusement that that mental image brought up, he took another sip of water and began the next part of his explanation. The positive side to this was that the Headmaster knew a lot of this already since he had been there fifty years ago.

"Tell me, what do you know about the Chamber of Secrets?" he asked the old man. Dumbledore looked pensive, and also a little amused. "This has been one of the singularly most fascinating conversations of my life Harry. I feel like a child again. What a wonderfully twisted and spiraled discourse. From time travel and forbidden dark magic, all the way to legends involving this school and the founding of it."

He paused for a moment, seeming to gather his thoughts. "The Chamber of Secrets was allegedly a room created by Salazar Slytherin, without the knowledge or consent of the other three founders. Legend says that Slytherin placed within it a creature that would do only the bidding of him and his heirs, and that it would one day "purge the school of the unworthy". It is believed that the pure blood dogma originated with the man, and that he was the first person who was biased against people of mundane origin." The Headmaster looked at Harry, trying to gauge if his information was on the right track. Encouraged by the nod he saw, he continued.

"Generations of witches and wizards have attempted to find the Chamber, curse breakers and magical archaeologists have scoured the castle from top to bottom in vain, trying to find it. Eventually the Chamber was dismissed as a legend, and in time it was forgotten about by most people, barring a few history scholars and castle enthusiasts." Dumbledore paused again and took a sip of his water.

Harry remained silent, enjoying the discourse with the Professor. He was an engaging conversationalist and was superbly knowledgeable about his subject matter. He basked in listening to his erstwhile mentor, having missed the man's charisma and appetite for scholarly discussion.

"I have been at this school a long time, Harry. I too searched in vain for the Chamber, as the history of this school and the lives of the Founders are areas of great interest to me. I never did find it, but I did find proof of it's existence. I was a spry hundred and twenty six years old when there began a series of strange incidents in the school. I was the Professor of Transfiguration at that time, and Deputy Headmaster of the school. There were rumors that the Heir of Slytherin was in Hogwarts, and that he had set loose the monster from the Chamber. It was supposed to cleanse the school of those whose blood was deemed unworthy. Muggle-borns, to be precise. These events culminated in the death of a student, a Myrtle Wintle in the girls bathroom on the first floor. Unfortunately, Rubeus Hagrid was blamed for it, as he had been raising an Acromantula in an unused room in the dungeons."

The Headmaster's eyes had glazed over, he seemed to be lost in memory, reliving those days when his hair was still as red and his steps spry. Harry remained quiet not wanting to interrupt the tale. Although he knew all this, he had never heard it from this perspective and he was finding it fascinating.

"I knew it was Riddle. I couldn't prove it, and Armando Dippet, the Headmaster at the time, refused to believe me without proof. The attacks stopped when Hagrid was expelled, and the Chamber slowly slipped out of people's memory again. Why do you ask?" he ended with understated humor, getting a small smile out of Harry. He hoped that if he ever lived to be the Headmaster's age, he would carry himself with the same sense of belief, principles and humor. The man was truly great in his ways. However he was also a secretive, manipulative, interfering old coot. Harry gave a small mental smirk. He was quite enjoying having information that the old man didn't.

"What would you say if I told you that I know where the Chamber is and I also know what the creature in it is?" He asked blandly, wanting to provoke a reaction. Dumbledore had been alive for much longer than Harry though and he seemed willing to play along. It was a slightly amusing situation, like an inside joke between friends as he merely said "Oh? Do tell."

Harry could tell he had a riveted audience though. "The entrance is in the girls bathroom on the first floor, where Myrtle was killed." He said nonchalantly, determined not to be the first to stop their exaggerated game of acting as if they were discussing the weather.

"Indeed." said Dumbledore with a only slight raising of his eyebrows. "It does make sense in a certain way. The girl was killed there and for some reason that particular bathroom has always had a history of malfunctioning despite hundreds of years of magical maintenance"

Harry had to give it to the man. He was as cool as a cucumber and ever since Harry had made the vow, he took everything he said as truth, not questioning the veracity of his statements but only wondering at the sources of his knowledge. Harry did know that he had an ace in the hole though. The next bit of information was going to blow the old man's mind.

He decided to lead up to the big reveal though. This was proving quite entertaining and given the events of the last few months before his trip through the veil, he'd take entertainment where ever he could find it.

"Did you know that Voldemort is a parseltongue? He was genuinely curious as to the extent of public knowledge when it came to the Dark Lord. The headmaster nodded slowly, his brow furrowed as he seemed to be trying to work out where this was going.

"By the end of the war, Voldemort had acquired a familiar named Nagini. A strange breed of snake that was both large and poisonous. He ordered several deaths through her fangs and rumor has it that many of his enemies wound up as her dinner." The wheels seemed to be turning in his head, and his face cleared of confusion and turned to dread.

"Harry what kind of snake is in the Chamber of Secrets?" he asked seriously, with the mien of one who already knew and dreaded the answer..

Harry sighed. He knew that it was probably not easy to hear something like this when you were the custodian of the school and the lives of all the residents was your responsibility. He actually thought that the Headmaster felt guilty for not being able to find the Chamber and for not being able to prove it was Riddle. He knew that that was one of the reasons he had adamantly pleaded with the School Board to have Hagrid apprenticed to Ogg, the old Groundskeeper and Keeper of Keys at Hogwarts.

He nodded his head, feeling horrible that he was confirming the man's worst fears. "It's a thousand year old Basilisk, Albus. Absolutely huge. Myrtle was killed by looking into it's eyes as it was either entering or exiting the Chamber."

Albus Dumbledore looked heavenward before closing his eyes and taking deep breaths. He was one of the most experienced and formidable wizards alive, but even he quailed at the thought of taking on the King of Serpents. Especially one that had survived so long and had grown so large. It was going to be a task to get kill it. He had not a single idea as to how they were going to manage that.

"How do you know this?" he asked, tiredly contemplating the work they had to do now to rid themselves of the monster without endangering the lives of the students in the castle.

"It was opened in my second year, and several students were petrified. They didn't gaze directly into it's eyes, you see. Hence there were no fatalities." Harry answered him quietly, also aware that it was going to be difficult this time around. He wondered at times like this whether it was better to know what was lying in wait. He wasn't sure how he would have reacted had he known the true nature of the basilisk the first time around.

"Who was the heir?" Dumbledore asked, curious to know who else was of the Slytherin blood line and attending Hogwarts. "It was Riddle, manipulating another student through one of his Horcruxes."

Dumbledore was aghast. "Do you meant to tell me that he can possess people through them?"

Harry considered this question deeply. Truth was, he didn't know if the Horcruxes could possess someone. He knew that Riddle had created the diary to be interactive and to leech the soul of the writer so that it could power itself to assume a corporeal form. Eventually, it would use the life-force of the writer to create a mortal body for itself, transferring from the Horcrux into the hosts body.

"I'm not sure if all of them can, but this particular Horcrux was created to do exactly that. It was a diary, capable of though due to the presence of the soul within it. It responded to a writer, and slowly began to leech their life-force and soul. It was left behind by one Tom Marlvolo Riddle to "purge" the school." he grimaced, still unable to fathom the unreasonable and irrational hatred Voldemort bore towards muggle-borns.

"Where is this diary now?" inquired Dumbledore, staring intently at Harry. It was comforting to know that from this day forth, he would not be the only one hell bent on getting rid of Voldemort. The Headmaster was a formidable wizard, with deep understanding of magic and awesome power. It was good to know he had an ally.

Harry sighed again. He felt that this conversation was taking way too much time to get out of the way. And they had just begun. He had no idea how he was going to complete all the tasks he had set for himself at this rate. He made a decision to take some action.

"Albus, it is not in a place we can access right now. I fear we don't have much time before Quirrell gets curious as to where I've disappeared. The last thing we need is Voldemort to get his hands on the Philosopher's Stone. I need to open the Chamber and deal with the basilisk so that we can coat the sword in it's venom and destroy the one Horcrux that _is_ readily available to us, and then deal with Quirrell and get Voldemort out of him. Unfortunately there is no way to save Quirrell. He was a dead man walking as soon as he accepted Voldemort's possession of him."

Dumbledore nodded at what he was saying. It seems some of the urgency he was trying to inspire had taken hold. They sat in contemplative silence, each lost in their own thoughts.

A knock on the office door startled them both out of their reveries. "Come." said Dumbledore, glancing at a strange watch that had all the planets rotating on it. He raised his eyebrow. "My word, time has flown, Harry. I suspect it's time for lunch."

Professor McGonagall came into the office, looking unsure of herself as she saw Harry sitting quite comfortably in the visitors chair.

"What can I do for you, Minerva?" Dumbledore asked as the silence stretched on and on. She nodded jerkily. "It's time for lunch, and I was hoping to get to know what is happening with Mr. Potter here." She said, sounding much more timid than she usually did.

The Headmaster nodded thoughtfully. "We haven't yet discussed what the "official" story is going to be but we have established that this young man is indeed Harry Potter." She studied him in interest, wondering how he had come to be here.

"Mr. Potter, it is an honor to have you among us after all this time." She said with a slight crack in her voice. "Your parents were two of my favorite students. It was a shame what happened to them. I look forward to getting to know you." She smiled and left the room, still burning with curiosity but sensing that the two men inside the office had a lot more to discuss. She had resigned herself a long time ago to knowing only what she needed to know. It was normal while working with Albus Dumbledore.

She left the office leaving the two wizards alone again for to continue their discussion. Harry was determined to get a head start on their plans to enter the Chamber of Secrets.

"With the students at lunch, now would be an ideal time to go down into the Chamber." He said, expecting the Headmaster to argue with him. He was surprised when the man simply nodded. "I trust you Harry. As you've given your vow to not let any harm befall the residents of the castle, I think we can proceed to the Chamber and deal with the Basilisk." He paused to gather his thoughts. "How are you going to deal with it? How did you do it in your timeline?"

Harry grimaced at those memories. It had been chaotic and it had been a bloody miracle that all four of them had emerged unscathed. Of course Lockhart had lost his memories but that was the fool's own doing.

"I killed it with the sword in the last timeline." Harry stated, remembering the burning sensation of the basilisk venom in his blood. "I got a fang embedded in my arm for my troubles." He pushed his sleeve up to his elbow and showed the headmaster the scar. "If it weren't for Fawkes here, I would have died a quick death down in the Chamber."

Dumbledore nodded. "Fawkes' tears are exceptionally powerful when it comes to healing." Harry didn't say anything to that, instead he began to chalk out a plan.

"I know how to access the Chamber, and I know how to summon the basilisk." He paused here, knowing he would have to reveal that he was a parseltongue to the Headmaster. A sudden thought made him start, as he realized that with Voldemort's soul shard destroyed, it was possible that he could no longer speak with serpents. He drew his wand and whispered " _Serpensortia._ " Dumbledore leaned back in his seat about to ask him what he was doing when he heard Harry hiss at the serpent.

" _Hello, friend."_ he hissed, wondering if he was about to get bitten by his own conjured snake if he couldn't speak it anymore. " _Greetings, young one._ " came the reply. He let out a relived breath that he hadn't realized he was holding as he understood the snake. With a nod, he flicked his wand, causing it to disappear.

"You're a parselmouth." observed the Headmaster, looking fascinated again. Harry nodded, glad that he wasn't subjected to the looks of loathing he had come to expect with the discovery of his rare talent. "A trait known to appear in the Slytherin line. I didn't think that the Potters were related to them." He continued, displaying his interest for the founder and wizarding genealogy.

"I'm not related them. How I've come to speak Parseltongue is a long tale, better suited for another time." Harry didn't know how he could summarize learning the language from Voldemort's soul-shard that had been trapped in his mind. He was quite certain that in the previous timeline he had only been a Parselmouth because of the soul-shard. He had gleaned knowledge of the subject from the soul-shard stuck in his head. Now it was a language he had "learned" like any other, though he was unsure about his ability to share that knowledge.

The Headmaster simply nodded, accepting that all could not be revealed in so short a time. He clapped his hands decisively and stood up from his desk. "Well, lunch must be well underway and there is no time like the present to get things done. Should we proceed to the Chamber?"

Harry swallowed and nodded slowly, standing up as well. He was _not_ looking forward to confronting the basilisk again. He was hoping that this time he would not have to kill it. Something about being the Heir of Slytherin through conquest made him quite sure that the giant serpent would obey him. Still one could not be too careful, he thought to himself as he lifted Gryffindor's sword and followed the Headmaster down the spiral staircase.

They walked in silence through the hallways, the Headmaster whistling a soft tune, as if he was off to have tea with an old friend. Harry found himself smiling at the old man's eccentricities once again. There was truly something humbling about how calm and collected the Headmaster was, even in the direst of situations.

They entered Myrtles bathroom together. Fortunately, the morose ghost was nowhere to be seen and it was quiet, save for the soft drip of water from one of the taps.

Taking a deep breath, Harry walked to the sink which he knew had a small snake carved into in. The Headmaster was quiet, and had drawn his wand and was attentively waiting for Harry to proceed.

" _Open."_ Harry didn't hear the harsh hissing that caused the sink to glow white and then start spinning, revealing a dingy, dirty pipe leading into the bowels of the school.

"After me, I think." Said Harry with a terse smile as he lowered himself into the pipe. Time to see about a monster.

The slide down was as dirty and grimy as he remembered it, he thought with distaste as he Scourgified the filth off himself. He could hear the Headmaster coming down the pipe behind him and he cushioned the ground directly in front of it. The man was almost two centuries old after all. He landed with a soft thump, seeming a little surprised at how soft his landing was. His glasses had gone crooked and there was dirt in his long, flowing white beard. He straightened them as he stood, with a small nod of thanks to Harry for the cushioning spell. His wand twirled around him in a complicated motion, and he was immaculately clean again. Harry vowed to learn that spell, since he often found himself in situations where he was dirtier than he would like.

"This way." He said as he cast a silent Lumos and started walking down the tunnel. As before, there was the crunch of small animal skeletons under his feet as he walked in front of the Headmaster. Albus Dumbledore was looking around in fascination. It was quite rare for him to be in a part of the school that he had not been in before. He couldn't feel the wards in place down here, he noted with interest. It appeared to be so far underground that the wards did not cover this part. A security nightmare. He would have to take care of it, he sighed softly. Harry swung around at the soft sound, raising a curious eyebrow at him. A small shake of the head and they kept trudging through the tunnel, the old man and the dark-haired youth, with their wands alight and their hearts heavy at the thought of what was to come.

They came across the shed skin of the Basilisk that was lying in the tunnel. Harry felt Albus stumble a little as he took in the size. It was a good fifty feet long and quite thick. "This Is an old skin, it's bigger now." Harry said blandly as he stepped past it. The Headmaster however had paused, staring at the skin with big eyes. "Harry, do you know what basilisk hide is worth?! This hide would sell for thousands of galleons. It's harder than diamond, harder even than Hungarian Horntail hide, which is what your armor is made of if I'm not mistaken."

Harry stepped back, considering the shed skin thoughtfully. He knew a German armorer who could probably craft him world-class armor from this if it was true. "We'll see about that after we've dealt with the live one. Perhaps the proceeds could go to the school." The Headmaster nodded, pleased with his generosity. As the person who had discovered the Chamber, he could very well claim all "finds" as his own. It was an unwritten rule in the wizarding world, and one of the reason's that Gringotts bank was as wealthy as it was. They hired and trained curse-breakers who went around the world excavating magical sites to discover ancient and hidden treasures, which could not be claimed by any one else after that.

Harry gestured for them to proceed, his mind preoccupied with how to get rid of the basilisk if it proved hostile. His first and last strategy was to conjure a rooster and get it to crow. He smiled softly in the darkness as he remembered reading about that little snippet from an old textbook that Hermione had desecrated and torn out of a library book. He could picture it clearly in his mind's eye:

" _Of the many fearsome beasts and monsters that roam our land, there is none more curious or more deadly than the Basilisk, known also as the King of Serpents. This snake, which may reach gigantic size, and live many hundreds of years, is born from a chicken's egg, hatched beneath a toad. Its methods of killing are most wondrous, for aside from its deadly and venomous fangs, the Basilisk has a murderous stare, and all who are fixed with the beam of its eye shall suffer instant death. Spiders flee before the Basilisk, for it is their mortal enemy, and the Basilisk flees only from the crowing of the rooster, which is fatal to it._ "

They arrived at the circular, golden door that had serpents all around it. It was a magnificent piece of work, with a complicated locking and ward system that responded only to Parseltongue. The Headmaster studied it, casting a few detection charms on it. It was astounding magic, considering it was a thousand years old.

Harry looked askance of the man. "Ready?" Albus gave him a small smile, with just the hint of a twinkle. "As I'll ever be, Mr. Potter. Please, proceed."

Taking a deep breath, Harry spoke in the language of serpents, down in this shrine to serpents. A word that had last been spoken by a sixteen year old Tom Riddle. It echoed around the tunnel like the sound of a thousand snakes.

" _Open."_


	4. Chapter 4

There was a loud grating and creaking as the door opened for the first time in fifty years. The snakes around the edges of the door slid forward realistically and unlocked it.

Harry and Albus exchanged a look as they both advance slowly, wands out, into the fabled Chamber of Secrets.

The air smelled stale and dry, it was heavy and musty. The torches around the Chamber flared to life as they walked forward. Dumbledore was staring around in amazement at the huge pillars with the engraved snakes on them. The room was raw, it seemed to be carved out of the very rock that the castle stood upon. It was easily larger than the Great Hall above and was absolutely huge. In the center on the other side stood a huge statue of Salazar Slytherin, dressed in the fashion of his times. Like Harry, Dumbledore also thought that the man looked slightly like a monkey.

No one would ever know how the founder had managed to construct and conceal this Chamber without the other three getting wind of it. The Headmaster frowned a little to himself. If Tom Riddle had found the Chamber, then there were obviously clues as to how to find it. He recalled that Riddle had spent hours in the library, researching the founders, especially Slytherin. It was possible that he had discovered some clue hidden away in one of the dusty old tomes in the library.

He turned to Harry, who was staring at the statue in trepidation. He held his wand ready and waited now for him to take the lead. All he heard was harsh hissing. He turned to Harry wondering what exactly he was saying in this ancient and rare language.

" _Speak to me Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts Four"_ Harry hissed as loud as he could, looking at the mouth of the statue. Just as before, Slytherin's mouth began to open, with a grating sound of stone on stone. This time he didn't feel horrified, just resigned.

"Close your eyes, Professor" he murmured, his own tightly shut. They could hear something huge moving, sliding, slithering and then a thump as it came to rest on the floor. Silence. Not daring to open his eyes, Harry wondered what the snake was doing. After another moment of silence, he chanced a peek, keeping his eyes on the ground in front of him and moving forward, so that he could hopefully shut his eyes immediately if he thought he was gazing close to the creatures head. To his surprise, the giant serpent was coiled at the base of the statue, with it's head bowed in a manner of subservience and it's eyes facing the ground. He breathed a small sigh of relief. "It's alright, you can open your eyes" he whispered to the Headmaster, not wanting the serpent to get startled by talking loudly.

He felt Dumbledore start besides him as he took in his first glance of the creature that was living under his school. It was a bright, poisonous looking green that was dappled with yellow here and there. It had a white splash on its forehead that looked like a diadem, and a crest on it's head that resembled a crown. It was _huge._ It's scaly length went on and on in monstrous coils, and it's head swayed a little bit, much like a King Cobra. It's eyes were downcast though, and it was perfectly still save for the mesmerizing, slow sway of it's head.

" _What are you called, ssserpent?"_ Harry asked, adopting a haughty mien. He was acting on pure instinct and he just went with the flow. He decided to behave lordly and masterful so that the creature felt like obeying him.

" _I am Nehussstan, massster. What issss your bidding? How can I serve the egg of the great sssSalazar sssSlytherin?"_

The basilisk sounded just like any other servant. With phrases like "the egg of the great Salazar Slytherin", no wonder Tom Riddle had begun to feel that he was Merlin's gift to magic. He snorted slightly to himself as he turned to the Headmaster.

"Apparently it recognizes me as Slytherin's "egg". It will not harm us." The aged man breathed a sigh of relief and lowered his wand arm. He looked closely at the snake. As a scholar and intellectual, he didn't have much experience with creatures, but he did respect them and found them fascinating. Here was a creature that had not been seen for hundreds of years, and had not been studied more than the bare minimum due to it's deadly nature. "Ask him or her if there is any way for it to not kill with its gaze. There should be some way for it to mitigate it's deadly eyes. After all how would it look at it's young if it kills with every gaze?" he suggested, still looking in awe at the majestic looking creature. Deadly, yes. But majestic all the same.

" _Isss there a way for you to shield ussss from your gaze?"_ He hissed, his face contorting in ways he never knew possible. It was a slightly grotesque language, but then he knew of many who would kill for the ability. Snakes had after all, always been associated with dark wizards and dark magic, though he assumed that a lot of it came from the reputation that Salazar Slytherin and Voldemort had garnered. He also knew that Parseltongues were revered in other parts of the world; such as India and various countries in the East and Africa. This knowledge came from him perusing Voldemort's memories. The man was a maniac and a murderer but one could never say he was not intelligent and knowledgeable.

The snake replied in a voice that seemed to have no gender. _"My gaze cannot harm_ you, _Massster. Yet it is fatal to everyone elssse in the world. There isss nothing that I can do."_

The Headmaster's other questions came to mind. _"How would you look upon your young onessss?"_ He asked, genuinely curious as it wasn't something he would have thought of by himself.

" _I can never breed, Massster. I am neither male nor female. A Basssilisssk is born from the egg of a chicken hatched under a toad. We are incapable of offssspring."_

It made sense in a way. Harry turned to Dumbledore. "It claims that it's gaze cannot harm _me_ _,_ but there is no way to stop it from being fatal to others. Also, interestingly, it is asexual and sterile. It cannot breed." Harry felt a little bad for referring to an intelligent being as "it" but given the circumstances there was really no other option. "It's name is _Nehustan,_ by the way."

The Headmaster looked interested at that fact. " _Nehustan_ , was the name of a serpent from the Bible which Christians believe in. Interesting choice of name, but slightly belittling to the serpent itself." He paused, stroking his beard and looking at the snake. "It means "a brazen thing, a mere piece of brass. Salazar tSlytherin ruly saw it only as a tool. He obviously had no love for it, or did not know the meaning. Given his intellectual predilections, I doubt it was the latter."

Harry nodded tersely. The Headmaster was a font of facts and wisdom which would normally be fascinating but this was neither the time nor the place. He decided to accomplish their objective and then move forward with their other plans. Plans to rid themselves of one Horcrux, and the wraith possessing Quirrell.

" _Nehussstan, I require a ssservice of you."_ The snakes head bowed even lower as it gently hissed " _Anything, egg of my massster."_ Harry had initially been little startled at being called "egg" but thad hen realized that the Basilisk probably had no concept of lineage or an Heir. He was Salazar's "egg" apparently. Smiling wryly to himself, he carefully couched his request. " _I need your venom, to coat a weapon with. I know that it isss exssstremely potent, but I need to collect sssome venom from your venom sssack."_ He had very basic knowledge of the anatomy of snakes. He remembered watching a show on the television once at the Dursleys' when they had taken Dudley out for one of his birthdays. It was a show on snakes and it spoke of venom being stored in "sacks". The show makers had not known about magical serpents though.

" _Masssster, my venom is directly inside my fangss. There is no "sssack". I have heard of sssmaller, common ssserpents who have thisss. I was created to ssserve you, Prince of sssSytherin. Sssimply create a container and I will willingly give you my venom. I mussst warn you. There is no weapon I can think of that will sssurvive my venom. It is fatal even to the touch. Except for you, exssalted one."_

Harry grimaced at being called the "Prince of Slytherin" and the "exalted one". Still, he supposed having the snake in awe of him was better than sticking an ancient blade through the roof of it's mouth and into it's brain. He quietly conjured a glass container, and stepped up closer to Nehustan.

" _Here is the container, Nehussstan."_ He proffered the glass container, hoping the venom wouldn't destroy it. He gave an involuntary flinch as the serpent lowered it's head down to him, and he almost closed his eyes out of instinct, before remembering that he couldn't die from it's gaze. Taking a deep breath, he steeled himself and then looked directly into the creatures eyes. They were, in a word: beautiful. They shone like diamonds in the darkness, displaying an intelligence that he was surprised to see in a reptile. Of course, he wasn't even sure if it was a reptile, given that it was hatched from a chicken egg. Magic was a strange force, he mused.

There was a dripping sound, as the snake lowered itself, it's huge maw gaping open as venom, a putrid yellowy-green and viscous liquid slowly dripped into the container. There was a hiss and a little smoke rose from the container. Alarmed, Harry pointed his wand at it and thickened the glass of the container.

When he saw that he had almost a pint of the potent stuff, he gave a small hiss to the serpent to stop. It dutifully stopped releasing it's venom into the container, and resumed it's stance.

Albus Dumbledore was watching all of this in fascination. He was, however, a little worried about this huge beast roaming the bowels of his school. "Command it not to harm any of the residents of this castle, Harry." Harry grimaced a little. There were more than a few current "residents" of the castle that he wanted harmed in some way or the other. Quirrell and Pettigrew came to mind immediately. He simply nodded though. " _What do you eat, Nehusstan? How have you ssssurvived for sssoo many yearss?"_ Nehustan seemed to be contemplating the question. _"There are ssseveral tunnelsss that lead into the Great Foressst, Masster, I can go and hunt through them. However, asss the yearss have gone by, I have needed food lessss and lessss, I thrive in the magic of the ssschool my former massster has built."_

Harry was a little surprised by that, although it could explain it's monstrous size. It was possible that because the snake survived on a little food and a _lot_ of magic, it had surpassed it's usual growth rate.

" _You may continue to hunt in the Great Foressst, Nehusstan. However, do not harm any humanss or Centaurssss that you come across."_ The snake bowed it's head a little further in acquiescence.

" _Go and ressst now, I will come back and ssspeak to you ssssoon"_ Hissed Harry, actually meaning it. The serpent could have valuable insight into both Slytherin's and Voldemort's minds, and he was interested in garnering whatever information he could about both. Although he possessed Voldemort's memories, he still didn't know his motivations, or his psyche. It was hard to follow reasoning through memories. It was as if they were just movies he had to extrapolate from based on behavior patterns he observed. The snake made a graceful bow, and slithered away into the darkness, the sound of its massive body reaching them long after it's gargantuan tail had disappeared from view.

"Well, that was an interesting afternoon." Said Dumbledore with a small smile. "What now, Harry?"

Harry looked around the Chamber with narrowed eyes. "It's called the Chamber of _Secrets,_ Albus. Not the Chamber of "Secret." I wish to look around and see what else is there to discover. The Headmaster nodded, as it seemed like the most logical thing to do. "Now that the Basilisk is not a threat, should we split up and look over the Chamber?" He asked, once again deferring to Harry's opinion, much to the youths pleasant surprise. He shook his head. "I don't think that's wise. We have no idea what other nasty surprises Slytherin or Voldemort have left behind. My parselmouth skills could come in handy again."

He was shortly proved right. As they wandered closer to the base of the statue, there appeared to be runes carved into it. Albus shook his head, bemused. They weren't runes of any language that he had ever seen before and he had see a _lot_ of languages. Harry's mouth seemed to be moving slightly as if he was reading them. Parseltongue then, he surmised, waiting for the young man to let him know what he had read. He had not learned so much new information in one day in a very long time. He was finding it absolutely exhilarating to be in the depths of his beloved school, uncovering secrets that had lain dormant for thousands of years, while dealing a blow to the Dark Lord Voldemort.

" _Enter, Heir of the most worthy of bloodlines. To the Heart of my Chamber, where awaits knowledge and treasures for the sons of my sons. May pure blood always reign supreme. Speak my name, and gain entry to your inheritance. Beware, those not of my blood. A curse upon you and yours if you try to enter where you are not welcome."_

Harry gazed contemplatively at the carving, while he explained what they said to the Headmaster. He was _technically_ not of Slytherin's blood, yet as the Basilisk had recognized him as the heir he felt that it was safe to bet that the "Heart" of the Chamber would as well. The Headmaster was of a similar bent. He gestured for Harry to proceed.

" _sssSalazssar sssSlytherin"_ He hissed confidently. There was a white glow, similar to what was seen in the bathroom which was way above them now, and a doorway appeared out of the rock, with a stair case leading up into the statue.

They both pulled their wands out again, as they carefully began climbing the stairs. There were sconces on the stairwell, which flared to life as they walked forward, bathing the place in a dull, green light. Apparently Slytherin had been extremely fond of this shade of green.

They came into a suite of rooms, which were extremely dusty. There were however, clear footprints in the dust. They looked as if they had been created a few minutes ago. They were leading into all the rooms and exiting them as well. A chaotic, jumbled record of Tom Riddle's movements in this suite.

"Not the dust of a thousand years." Observed the Headmaster as he twirled his wand around the room and made the dust disappear. A further wave of his wand the air freshened, losing it's moldy, musty odor and smelling more like fresh cut grass and lemons.

"More like fifty." Harry commented quietly, looking around with interest. It was a modest suite, with a seating area which had a fire place and a few chairs made in an old fashion. They were carved out of wood and had serpents entwined around them. He grimaced a little again. The man had obviously been obsessed with snakes. Where did the smoke go? Wondered Harry, glancing at the fireplace as he walked towards one of the other doors. He gestured for the Headmaster to precede him, as he didn't have the same control over cleaning spells.

They entered a spartan bedroom, with a bed very similar to the ones in the dorm rooms above them. The mattress was moldy and ruined, and this room had an even worse odor. The Headmaster performed his spells again, but they didn't even enter the room. It was apparent from a single glance that there was no more to this room. It was simply a place to rest.

They went back, and tried another door. This one opened up into a slightly larger room, which seemed to be set up as an office and library combined. There was significantly less dust here, and there were again footprints on the floor, preserved from fifty years ago. There were bookshelves lining three of the walls, which had no books on them, but the marks in the dust showed that the books had been removed, probably by Riddle. There was nothing on the desk, and the chair behind it was broken, as if someone had smashed it against the wall. A few cleaning spells, and the place looked a little better. There was only so much a cleaning spell could do to filth that had accumulated over a millennium.

Harry sighed. He had been certain that there was something more to the chamber from the memories he had gleaned from the soul-shard, and he was slightly disappointed that this was all there was. He was surprised that the knowledge of this place did not come to him from Voldemort's memories. He supposed that not every single snippet of information had been absorbed by him when he overcame the soul-shard.

"Time to return I think." He said quietly, and again the Headmaster simply nodded. They walked back down the stairs and across the cavernous Chamber. "Harry, I think you should coat the blade with the venom down here. There's less chance of something going wrong, and the only the two of us to worry about if it does." That made sense, so Harry simply laid the sword down on the floor before him and uncapped the container of venom. With a soft hiss, he poured a liberal amount over the blade, watching as the venom seemed to _soak_ into the metal. It disappeared without a trace. He still had a good amount of venom in the container. He intended to give it to Snape, as a peace offering and hopefully the beginning of a very different relationship. This time, he knew about Snape's love for his mother, and the reason for his betrayal of the Dark Lord. This time, he trusted the hook-nosed, sallow-faced, sarcastic, sour potions master with his life. He might never like the man, but he did respect him and knew that he would never let harm come to him.

They walked on, Harry cradling the sword carefully. He really needed a scabbard for it. Even though he was supposedly immune to the venom, he didn't fancy getting cut with the sharp blade. They walked in silence out of the round door. Harry turned and with a hiss, caused it to close again. At the headmaster's raised eyebrow, he simply shrugged. "Can't be too careful."

They made their way back down the tunnel. At the shed skin, the Headmaster stopped and got a look of intense concentration on his face. He pointed his wand at the skin, and with a deep flash of orange, the fifty foot long skin turned into a wooden serpent, about five inches long. He pocketed it, smiling at the young man's awe at the transfiguration. There was a reason he was considered one of the best in the field. They walked in silence through the tunnel, back to the pipe lines that were shooting off in all different directions. "An easier way up, I think." said Albus with a smile. "Fawkes." The scarlet and gold bird flashed into the room, immediately making the whole place look a little brighter. "Your hand, if you would, Mr. Potter." smiled the Headmaster, gripping Fawkes' tail feather's with one hand and holding the other out to Harry. With no hesitation, Harry took the old man's hand. He expected Fawkes to fly up the pipe, as he had in the previous timeline, but instead, with a whoosh of flames, they disappeared and appeared again in the Headmaster's office.

Almost the minute they landed, the Headmaster turned to Harry. "Something you said earlier is bothering me, Harry." He said as he gestured towards the two visitors chairs. Harry was quite pleased as the man sat beside him, treating him as an equal rather than continuing their discourse from the imposing throne like chair behind his huge desk.

Harry looked askance of him. There was no way he could guess what was bothering the man. He had dropped so many bombshells on him that he was surprised that the man was taking it all in stride.

"Your oath." It came out almost like a sigh. Harry was beginning to get a clue where this was heading. He waited, feeling a little smug about himself. "Your wording was too encompassing. We both know that intent plays a huge role in magic. If you were to swat a fly in the castle, I doubt it would be seen as breaking your oath. Yet, you mentioned "residents of this castle." He trailed off, looking lost in thought.

Harry smirked a little. "You're thinking of Quirrell." He stated, getting a small nod from the Headmaster. "You said it yourself Albus. Magic is based on intent. In fact I would go further along that path and state that magic _is_ intent." Dumbledore nodded. He could see a few intellectual holes in that argument but it was a worthy argument. One that he had had multiple times with the many intellectuals he corresponded with on a regular basis. "What intent does Quirrelmort have for the residents of this castle?" he asked, not really expecting a reply. He did see the corner of the Headmaster's mouth twitch at his nickname for the possessed professor.

"Nothing good, I'm sure. I'm counting on _that_ to ensure that my oath is not broken. Imagine it as an unspoken condition: I will "cause to harm to residents of this castle." Leaving Quirrelmort to do as he pleases will most definitely cause harm to the residents of this castle." 

Dumbledore didn't look very convinced. He was quite worried, knowing that magic was quite unmerciful when it came to oaths and unbreakable vows. The condition that Harry spoke of seemed plausible, but very flimsy. It depended too much on magic herself agreeing with Harry's views on the residents of the castle.

A trill from Fawkes caused him to quirk an eyebrow. From the eye-contact between his familiar and Harry, he assumed they were communicating in some way. He was proved correct as Harry's face suddenly split into a grin. "Good news, old man. Fawkes here has just informed me that the castle itself knows the intent of its residents, and that it feels that my oath would not be broken if I removed a threat to the _true_ residents of this castle: the students."

Dumbledore stared at Harry, mouth agape. The castle was _sentient?_ The profundity of what he was saying seemed to have escaped Harry. It didn't occur to the young man that this would shed a whole new light on everything that everyone thought about Hogwarts over the last millennium since it's construction. He would have to ponder the ramifications of it all later. They had bigger fish to fry. He could not allow his intellectual curiosity and lust for new information slow them down in the tasks at hand.

"What is our next step?" He asked politely, looking intently at the young man who had managed to give him so much to think about in the last few hours. "Lunch, I think." Said Harry, realizing that he was absolutely famished. He didn't remember the last meal he ate. Breakfast hadn't happened thanks to the interrogation that had led them to this moment. "Of course. How absolutely remiss of me." He himself was quite used to going without food for long periods, until his body reminded him to nourish it. He had so much to do that eating seemed almost an after thought to him. He raised his voice slightly.

"Groffy." he called out to the air, causing a house-elf to appear with a muted crack. "Yessir, Mister Dumblydore sir?" The house-elf was slightly taller than Dobby, with longer ears and smaller eyes. He wore a simple toga with the Hogwarts crest on it. "Groffy please get us some lunch. Sandwiches and pumpkin juice for the two of us." Albus said politely. "Yessir." with that simple response, the house-elf disappeared from the room.

Harry noticed the Headmaster's treatment of the house-elf with interest. It had been pointed out by some muggle author or the other that one should judge a person's character based on how they interact with people they see below them on the social food chain. It was interesting to note that almost all the light wizards he knew, treated the house-elves with respect, yet not as equals. He was slightly shocked that the headmaster had been completely respectful, as if talking to one of the Professors or students of the school. It was refreshing to know that his mentor was open-minded and fair, and had consideration for the other magical sentient beings.

They sat in a moment of silence, before their food appeared before them. A platter of assorted sandwiches and a pitcher of cold pumpkin juice. Harry dug in with gusto. The Headmaster looked a little amused, but refrained from saying anything. He was old, but he still remembered his appetite from his youth. He could scoff grub with the best of them. He smiled ruefully as he nibbled on a ham and blue cheese sandwich. It was one of his favorites.

Noticing that Harry was too busy eating to talk, he brought up a thought that had occurred to him in the Chamber.

"The castles wards don't extend below to the Chamber. I couldn't feel them down there." He said, even as in his head he began the insanely complicated calculations of Arithmancy and the layout of Runes that he could use to extend the wards to encompass the huge area below. It was going to take a lot of work.

Harry swallowed his sandwich, taking a swig of juice to wash it down. "I was going to ask you about that. We definitely need to do something about it, there are other entrances to the Chamber, at least in the Forbidden Forest." Albus nodded thoughtfully. Perhaps they could design an entirely new ward scheme and tie it to Nehustan. That could work. "I'm more worried about Voldemort apparating into the Chamber, or asking one of his Death Eaters to do it for him." he said, leaving aside the crust of his sandwich. It didn't sit well with his digestive system. Harry gaped at him. "That hadn't occurred to me." He admitted, while his mind bound forward with the possibility of leaving a small unwarded space in the Chamber, for emergency apparations from and to the school. It would not be much of a security risk if it was a small space, and it would be a blessing to him and the Headmaster if they could get in and out of the school without being seen walking out of the gate by the students, or monitored by the Ministry by using the Floo connection.

They ate in silence, until there were only crumbs left on the platter. The platter and the pitcher disappeared, leaving the two men facing each other to figure out their next move.

"I don't know how connected Voldemort is to his Horcruxes." He stated, loving the fact that the Headmaster was immediately nodding, seeing where he was going with this. It saved so much time, because he was sure that his point had been understood without a long and winded explanation. He wondered if Dumbledore had begun talking in cryptic sentences when he realized that it was a waste of time to continuosly have to explain yourself to everyone around you. "I think he will be less connected to them when he is in a corporeal form." He continued, getting an encouraging nod from the Headmaster. "We should destroy the Horcrux in the Room of Requirement, and then take care of Quirrelmort."suggested Harry.

Dumbledore nodded, his fingers steepled under his chin. He had a dark, despairing look on his face. "My boy, am I correct in assuming that you will _have_ to _allow_ him to come back in some form to tae care of the rest of the Horcruxes?"

Harry sighed. Sometimes having a genius for a mentor and helper, however eccentric said genius might be, was a serious pain in the arse. He nodded glumly, having hoped they would have this conversation some time in the future. The Headmaster looked ill at the though, before he bowed his head slightly in resignation. 

"Merlin, help us."

It was a sober two who stood and walked shoulder to shoulder out of the Headmaster's office, to heading to the seventh floor to destroy a monster, piece by piece.


	5. Chapter 5

**\- A/N: Hey everyone, sorry for the huge delay in posting the previous chapter, my laptop wasn't working. A few kinks have been pointed out to me from reviewers { keep them coming, they're really helpful } that I have tried to address in the previous chapter. Namely: the oath Harry took. It's a little flimsy but I think it works.**

 **Unlike a lot of authors, I don't have this story completely written, and I know the basic plot-line I want to follow but I take twists and turns as they come up. If there are discrepancies or errors please feel free to point them out and I'll try my best to keep them at a minimum. Please review, I would love to get some input, encouragement and/or especially constructive criticism. Thanks for reading and ENJOY. :} BTW my parenthesis keys aren't working so expect more of these {} :} :}**

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The post-lunch hour class had just finished, and there were a few students moving around in the hallways, who looked at the Headmaster and the strange young man walking together with some level of curiosity. Most of them didn't know who the young man was anyway.

Harry glanced at the students walking around with a small smile on his face. It was _really_ good to see Hogwarts with students bustling around, getting late for their classes and careening down the halls. So much better than it being a devastated ruin, a memorial to hundreds of people, ex-students and otherwise, who had died to fight against a few bigots ideas. It made him angry, and it made him sad that the wizarding world was so susceptible to turning on each other based on something such as blood.

He smiled as he saw a fifth year Percy Weasley walking briskly into a classroom. It was good to see the red-haired pillock again. In the previous timeline, he had remained estranged from his family until the first battle of Hogwarts. After that battle, he had wholeheartedly joined the resistance effort and had been instrumental in taking down several Death Eaters, including Augustus Rookwood. Once he got his head out of his arse he was quite a competent fighter. He had died trying to protect Molly from Bellatrix, Rudolphous and Rabastan Lestrange. Harry felt the familiar twist in his guts, until he forced it away. That would not happen this time.

He led Dumbledore to the seventh floor, where the headmaster watched with interest as Harry paced in front of the blank wall. There was a painting of Trolls in tutus on the opposite wall, desperately trying to get their attention. They ignored them, as a door appeared on the previously blank wall. Opening the door, Harry gestured for the Headmaster to precede him into the room. He walked in and stopped, stunned.

Row after row, stack after stack of _junk_ stretched as far as the eye could see. There were books, broken crystal balls, several brooms, ripped cloaks, what looked like a child's swimming float, a broken armchair, a delicate crystal vase that was lying on the floor, unbroken, and several odds of socks thrown around. And that was just at first glance. The room was absolutely huge. The headmaster looked around uncertainly. They would be hard-pressed to find anything specific in this room without spending days and days in it. Harry stood besides the man, letting him take it all in. He well remembered his first reaction to this room when he had hidden the potions text belonging to the Half-Blood Prince.

"Overwhelming, isn't it?" He asked quietly, taking it all in again. The sounds from the school seemed to have stopped, and the whole room was bathed in dim light that seemed to come from the skylights above. Of course, it was an illusion, this room was no where close to an area in the castle that could have skylights. There was a whole floor above them, for starters. "There are several valuable books, weapons and some other useful items in here." He informed the headmaster, reliving his own shock when he had found a copy of Moste Potente Potions in the rubbish. There were only a few copies of that book, and many were lost to private collectors. The Hogwarts library had one, the Ministry library had one, and there was one in the Black vault at Gringotts. There were no other known copies of the book. It was quite a rare find. He had also found an assortment of daggers and swords in here, buried under clothes and some stashed behind broken cupboards. Many of them had jeweled hilts, and some were goblin-forged as well. They had sold them and used the proceeds towards the war effort in the last timeline.

Albus Dumbledore looked around in wonder. In a single day, his whole idea of the castle that he was the custodian off had changed. He was discovering things no headmaster before him had, and it was absolutely exhilarating.

"Groffy." He called out. There was a pop, and the house elf appeared in front of the Headmaster. An astonished look crossed his face as his eyes went huge, looking around the room.

"Where has Mister Dumblydore summoned Groffy?!" he cried, looking at the junk and the waste paper scattered on the floor. What appeared to be either a large tarantula or a small acromantula crawled over some discarded curtains which were lying across an old, sagging couch.

"This is the Come and Go Room, Groffy." Said the Headmaster, smiling at the little elf's horror at the mess around him. Groffy snapped his head around to him, with his eyes still as wide as saucers.

"Mister Dumblydore sir, we elves is knowing the Come and Go Room, we is using it for centuries! This is NOT it." He shook his head vehemently, his ears flopping around. Harry thought it was quite cute. He had correctly guessed the Headmaster's intention in summoning the elf and wondered why he hadn't thought of it himself. He shook his head. They all sometimes forgot the most obvious things.

"I want you to select five more elves, and go through this room thoroughly. Find anything that is of value and store it. Anything that is irreparable, or useless and broken, get rid of." The elf was nodding his head vigorously, still turning round and round in a circle, still unable to believe the state the room was in. There was hundreds of years of things strewn about, making the whole place look like a junkyard. The little elf couldn't wait to get it sorted out. He looked quite eager to begin.

Harry added in his two sickles. "Groffy, I suggest you divide the useful things you find into a few piles. For example, pile all the books together. Keep all the usable or reparable clothes in one pile. Any weapons such as knives, swords and helmets can be kept in one pile. The Headmaster and I have some work here, you may begin your work tonight." The elf looked askance of the Headmaster, who inclined his head. "Groffy, there is no hurry to get this done. Please make sure that you and the elves who work with you take adequate rest and don't over-exert yourselves." Smiled Dumbledore. With a small nod and a snap of his fingers, Groffy disappeared.

Harry was looking at the Headmaster with approval. It was refreshing to find someone else within the magical community who didn't automatically treat house elves like servants to be ordered around and mistreated. A little bit of kindness and respect would go a long way towards repairing the relationship that wizards shared with other sentient magical beings. Though Harry supposed that if the wizards were prejudiced against themselves because of blood, it was quite unlikely they would ever be more than just a little tolerant of a whole other species. He shook himself out of his ruminations and began wandering down the aisles, the headmaster in tow. He knew vaguely where the diadem was located. It was difficult remembering the path through the mess, but he somehow managed to lead them there. He could feel the dark magic radiating off the diadem, which sat on the bust of an ugly old warlock. The warlock bore more than a passing resemblance to Slytherin so perhaps even it's hiding place was not a coincidence.

The Headmaster had his wand out again, twirling it around and checking for enchantments, traps and other nuisances. Harry simply stood to the side, waiting for him to finish. He knew there was really nothing to worry about with this Horcrux. Perhaps in his arrogance, Riddle had never realized that there were among the living, other people who had hidden things at the venerable old castle. A small nod from the Headmaster, and Harry picked up the diadem, holding it gingerly as they made their way out of the room. He enlarged his pocket, and placed the diadem inside his robes. He didn't want to be mobbed by stray Ravenclaw students who recognized it. And he was pretty sure that many of them would. There was a statue of Rowena Ravenclaw wearing it inside their common room after all.

"Useful charm work, that." smiled Albus, gesturing to the enlargement charm that Harry had placed on his pocket. "I have my robe pockets charmed to be larger on the inside as well." He rummaged around in his pocket as they made their way down the corridor at a brisk pace. "Lemon drop?" he asked Harry, having finally found what he was looking for. Harry smile at the twinkly eyed old man, accepting it quietly and placing the tart sweet into his mouth. He had come to enjoy these when they had discovered the Headmaster's stash of candy in his office.

The gargoyle at the foot of the stairs rumbled out of their way as they made their way back into the headmasters office. They found an agitated looking McGonagall waiting for them, a copy of the Daily Prophet in her hands. "Albus!" She exclaimed as soon as she saw them. "There was a special afternoon edition of the prophet where they have described the disappearance of Harry Potter and the appearance of a strange man in the Great Hall during the feast." Dumbledore and Harry exchanged a look of consternation. In the midst of their discussion and all that had happened they had forgotten that all the students had witnessed Harry Potter disappearing from the Great Hall and this stranger appearing at almost the same time. They looked at each other in dread, wondering how they were going to mitigate this problem. Dumbledore took the paper from her and spread it down on his desk, and both he and Harry leaned over it to read it.

 **MYSTERIOUS HAPPENINGS AT HOGWARTS**

Rita Skeeter

 _The students at the prestigious Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry were astonished by the happenings at the Welcome Feast yesterday, when newly-sorted Harry Potter, 11, (Gryffindor) disappeared in the middle of the feast. Eleven years ago, the "boy-who-lived" became a national hero after his defeat of He-who must-not-be-named._

 _Following the death of his parents and the incarceration of his Godfather, Sirius Black, 35, in Azkaban for the murder of the Potter's secret keeper, Order of Merlin, first class winner, Peter Pettigrew, Harry Potter was placed in the protective custody of Albus Dumbledore. Despite several magical families expressing their desire to raise him as their own, with the status he deserves intact, he was secreted away from the magical world. This September first marked his first appearance back into the world he delivered from darkness. Under the care of Albus Dumbledore it seems that the savior of the wizarding world has already been placed in danger, as there are no reports as to his whereabouts at this time._

 _As if that was not enough, a strange black-haired man allegedly appeared out of nowhere in the middle of the Great Hall. Students and staff present have reported that the aged Headmaster Dumbledore was flummoxed at the disappearance of his charge, and could not properly explain things to either them or the staff. The young man who appeared in the Great Hall was taken to the hospital wing, and no further information has been brought forward by the school authorities regarding the identity of this person. This reporter requests the Ministry of Magic and the Department of Magical Law Enforcement to look into the happenings at the school which has all the hope for the future of British magical families studying in it._

 _There have been questions posed by several people over the years about Albus Dumbledore's competency to continue as the Headmaster of the school given his eccentricities and seemingly abnormal behavior. Mr. Lucius Malfoy, 40, spoke from his Wiltshire manor. "I have questioned the school Board of Governors decision to retain the ancient man for several years, but have always been rebuffed with the phrase "But, it's Dumbledore." We must ask ourselves how long we will let the man's past achievements blind us to his current level of competency. The School needs new blood in it's management."_

 _This reporter hopes that the ministry will begin questioning the running of the private school, and perhaps take it under their own aegis as debated in the Wizengamot in June session of 1985. We shall intimate our readers of the situation once there is more information available._

 _For information on Albus Dumbledore's career at Hogwarts, turn to page 2_

 _For information on Harry Potter, turn to page 3_

 _For information on Sirius Black, turn to page 4_

 _For information of the Wizengamot debate of 1985, turn to page 5_

Harry snorted,as he saw the name under the headline and ran his hands through his hair. This was bad. He had not appeared on Skeeter's radar until his fourth year in the previous timeline, a fact he was very grateful for. She was already hailing him the "savior" of the wizarding world. He definitely didn't want the title this time. If he had his way there would be no need for a savior. There were a lot of questions asked and facts pointed out that he really didn't want made public as of yet. It was going to be a public relations nightmare to get this sorted out. The Headmaster looked grave as well, though his eyes twinkled a little as he pointed out the phrases "his eccentricities and seemingly abnormal behavior" to Harry. With a small smile, Harry threw himself back into the visitors chair that he had been sitting in before their foray into the Room of Requirement.

"Well," he began and then trailed off, not knowing what to really say. He had no idea how they were going to spin this. He hadn't thought that far ahead and it had only been a few hours since he had regained consciousness in this new timeline. He wracked his brains to come up with a way to stop the Ministry from interfering at Hogwarts, using this as a premise. "What are we going to do?" he asked Dumbledore, who was still reading the paper. The Headmaster took his moon-shaped spectacles off his face and massaged the bridge of his nose. He looked every year of his age as he made his way to his seat behind the desk, gesturing for McGonagall to take the other visitors seat.

They sat in silence for a moment, all of them pondering how they were going to explain this to the ministry and the magical public without revealing too much about Harry.

"If it becomes public knowledge that you are from the future, the Department of Mysteries would be most interested in knowing your story, Harry, and will probably want to take you into custody to question you. They will want to know the ritual you used, and may even want you to stop intervening with the timeline.." Harry nodded slowly. That was a logical conclusion since the DoM was responsible for the monitoring and regulation of time-related magics including the use of Time Turners. He couldn't help but add his own thoughts on the matter. "Further than that, the events and occurrences of this timeline may change even further that it already has. I'm pretty sure that several aspects have already changed just by my being here and my eleven year old self not. I can't imagine dealing with events if II lose the advantage of knowledge of the future." He paused, seeing them nod in agreement. It would not do to let everyone know that he was from the future. Besides the strategic loss in the struggle to come, he would also be barraged with questions from people about their personal lives, relationships and finances in the future. He could not have that. "I have no intention of being questioned about my motives for hours, days and weeks, Albus. We _cannot_ allow that to happen."

Minerva McGonagall looked a little appalled at his casual use of the Headmaster's first name. Of an old school upbringing, she deeply believed in respect being shown to elders, and like much of the magical world, she was in awe of the Headmaster, who had been her Transfiguration Master when she had completed her mastery. His accomplishments and power was legendary and to see the young Potter address him as an equal bothered her sensibilities. She herself had only gotten used to calling him by his name in the last fifteen years or so and that only because the Professor kept insisting on it. She had gotten over her initial reluctance and habit of calling him Professor and sir only after she had more regular contact with him after becoming the Head of Gryffindor when the previous head, Professor Marchbanks had retired.

Albus nodded firmly, in clear agreement with Harry. They would be hard-pressed to stop Voldemort as it was, without the additional burden of having to compensate for events unfolding much more differently than they already were going to unfold.

They sat again in silence, with McGonagall wishing she knew more about the situation so that she could help with ideas. "Albus, perhaps if I knew exactly what was going on I could be of some assistance." She asked tentatively, not sure if she was over-stepping. She was quite used to following Dumbledore's lead. She held the man in high esteem and would not have questioned him if he denied her request. "Need to know" was a phrase the old Order of the Phoenix had come to learn when under Dumbledore's leadership in the war against Voldemort.

Dumbledore turned to Harry, since it was his secret to share if he wanted. Harry wrestled with the decision to bring another person into the loop before sighing. It made sense in a certain way. They were both people he had implicitly trusted in the previous timeline after all. He nodded his assent. "Perhaps you should also include Professor Snape as one of the people in the "know". His input and strategic thinking could be invaluable."

Albus merely inclined his head and shot off a Patronus. His Patronus was a large swarm of butterflies, that clustered together, flying a tight formation. Harry watched in interest as the Patronus disappeared through the wall, probably making it's way down to the dungeons. Professor McGonagall gave him a speculative look. Harry would have bet the last galleon in his vault that she was wondering if he knew the tumultuous history between his father and Severus Snape. He said nothing, smirking internally. He knew that as of now Snape probably hated his guts based on the mere fact that he was James Potter's son. He would be taking steps to rectify that presently.

A few minutes passed before the floo flared green and Severus Snape stepped out, with a neutral look on his face and his black robes immaculate. He looked at both McGonagall and Harry, giving the latter a small sneer, before turning to the Headmaster. "You require my assistance, Headmaster?" he asked, seeming to have decided to ignore the presence of the other two in the office. McGonagall pursed her lips at his rudeness, but said nothing. Harry rolled his eyes at the predictable behavior. It was time to build some bridges in this timeline. "Actually, Professor Snape, it is _I_ who am in need of your assistance. May I speak with you privately, please?" he asked, bypassing Dumbledore answering the man's question. Snape curled his lip, before shooting the Headmaster an accusatory look and nodding his head sharply once.

Harry took his wand out of the holster strapped to his forearm, and erected a privacy bubble. The bubble was actually a combination of several spells, including _muffliato,_ an inverse silencing charm, anti-eavesdropping charm, a visual obscuration charm, and a small ward that warned of physical means of eavesdropping. It was a creation of Hermione's and it cause all three Professors to raise their eyebrows. None of them had ever seen such a spell before. It was quite impressive to say the least.

Snape looked questioningly at Harry, one brow arched in a manner that had caused many a seventh year student to quaver in their boots. "What do you want, Potter?" he said the name as if it was a disgusting swear word. Fighting the urge to roll his eyes, Harry simply raised his wand. "I, Harry James Potter, swear on my life and my magic that everything I tell you in the next ten minutes is the truth as I know it." Harry started out with an oath, that flashed as it was accepted. His goal was to keep Snape off-balance and it seemed to have worked, as he saw the man's facial expressions soften just a little bit. He always appreciated how seriously magicals took oaths and vows. Of course, it wasn't really surprising given the unpleasant consequences of breaking one.

"I know about your history with my father." He began without preamble, raising his hand to stop whatever response Snape was clearly getting ready. His face had turned back to its scowl. "I also know your history with my mother." Harry continued softly, noticing the man's eyes sliding to Dumbledore in consternation. "No, he didn't tell me, and he didn't break your trust." Harry assured him. He knew that this was probably one of the most important conversations he had had since coming into this timeline.

"I would like to extend an apology on behalf of my father and his friends, for their appalling treatment of you during your Hogwarts years. I know that it was not one-sided, and that you gave as good as you got, but I also know that they took it a little too far after your Defense Against the Dark Arts O.W.L"

Snape looked furious to be reminded of the incident, and for a moment Harry wondered if he should not have let on about his knowledge of that particular "prank". He decided to push forward. "My mother was a friend of yours from before Hogwarts, and I know that you were in love with her." he stated quietly, seeing the mans expressions change once again, this time to sorrow at the mention of Lily.

"I am NOT my father." he stated emphatically. Snape had yet to say a single word in their privacy bubble, yet his reactions to what Harry was saying spoke volumes. "No matter how much I look like him, and yes I bear the same name, but I am NOT him." Snape's sneer was back in full force. "I am well aware that you are _not_ James Potter." he said caustically, again spitting out the name with vehemence. "I fail to understand your point." He crossed his arms over his chest, and tapped his fingers against the other arm as he waited. Harry mentally sighed. This was not going to be easy. "Professor Snape, I know of your role as a spy against Voldemort." He noticed the mans eyes turn towards Dumbledore again, and he also noticed that there was absolutely no flinch at the sound of the Dark Lord's name. He was quite impressed. "No, Albus didn't tell me that either." He rubbed his eyes. Snape had raised an eyebrow at his use of the Headmaster's name. He hoped that he didn't have to explain this next part several times. "I am from the future, and I have knowledge of what could have happened, and I am determined to ensure that it does not." Snape looked ready to refute his claim, before he remembered that Harry was under oath to tell the truth. He now looked calculatingly at the young man who looked so much like his childhood nemesis. This could either be a very good thing or a very bad thing, depending on his actions from this moment forward. He made a short, jerky gesture for Harry to continue. Feeling more than a little relieved, Harry continued.

"He's coming back." he said softly, knowing that the Potions Master would know exactly who he was talking about. He saw a small amount of fear flit across Snape's face, before the Occlumency mask went back into place. "We need to trust each other and work _together_ if we are going to ensure that this time he doesn't take over completely. With my foreknowledge, I can truly say that I trust you implicitly." He saw Snape's eyes widen at that declaration of trust. He was still under oath after all, it could only be true. "The question remains, can you see me as Harry Potter? Not the son of James Potter, not the son of Lily Evans, but just Harry Potter, a light wizard who is intent on the destruction of Voldemort and his minions." Harry waited with baited breath. This was a moment that would define his relationship with Snape. He knew that the man was a genius potioneer and was also a brilliant strategist. A great thinker and an intellectual with a wide range of knowledge across many sphere's of magic. He was also a powerful wizard, and a master Legilimens and Occlumens. He was definitely going to be an asset in the struggles to come if he could only overcome his hatred of all things Potter.

He watched Snape carefully, who seemed to be deep in thought, pondering everything that Harry had told him. He saw resignation and acceptance in his eyes as he gave one sharp, jerky nod, indicating that they could indeed work together. With a sigh of relief, Harry raised his wand to drop the privacy bubble. He was halted by Snape's harsh voice. "Potter. I can trust you to work together, but don't expect me to be anything more than civil to you. It is not your apology that I have always wanted. And it's too late for me to make apologies of my own. I suggest we work together to stop the Dark Lord. I want nothing else to do with you." He held out his hand, looking into Harry's eyes. Harry nodded and grasped his hand in his own, knowing that this was as good as it was going to get. He was sure he could thaw out the severe Potions Master after some time. He did have knowledge about the man after all, much of it from his own mouth.

Minerva McGonagall looked extremely curious as to what the two men had discussed in the bubble, while Albus Dumbledore simply smiled at them both, and conjured a third chair for Snape to sit in.

Harry took a deep breath. "I am going to tell you the tale of what happened. What _would_ have happened, rather." He shrugged, helplessly. "The tenses confuse me." He had their rapt attention. Even Snape had his neutral look back on his face. McGonagall was leaning forward, her entire attention on this boy who would have been her student, and Dumbledore sat back, as if ready to enjoy a good story. They had no idea what they were about to hear. The next two hours would shatter their sense of security about Voldemort's defeat, and cause them to question decisions taken by several people in the previous timeline. It was going to be eye opening. "Let's begin with the day I found out I was a wizard." Said Harry, sitting back in his chair and preparing himself for a long few hours.


	6. Chapter 6

Harry paused for a moment, collecting his thoughts. He had to ensure he put this forward as coherently and comprehensively as possible, as they still had to give a response to the Ministry before they sent their sycophants to Hogwarts. They also had to deal with the Horcrux, and then deal with Quirrelmort.

"I suggest that the two of _you_ inform the other staff or the prefects that you're going to be unavailable for the remainder of the day." he gestured at Snape and McGonagall. They both nodded, and simultaneously shot of Patronus charms. Snape's Patronus surprised Harry. When he had known him in the previous timeline, his Patronus was a doe, in memory of Lily. Here, it was a bat. Perhaps in the latter days of the war he had been more reminded of why he had come back to the light in the first place and that had changed his Patronus. It was not uncommon.

"I grew up with my blood "relatives", the Dursleys." He saw Snape grimace, probably remembering Petunia from his youth. He was interested to note that McGonagall and Dumbledore both had slightly guilty looks on their faces. "Suffice it to say that I was _not_ treated well there. They did not treat me as a blood relative, they didn't even treat me as a human being. Had your Harry Potter been here, he would have told the same sad tale. Neglect at best, abuse at worst." He shrugged, having gotten over it a while a ago. He saw the guilt on the two faces but didn't say anything. Now was not the time for recriminations. "My first year sped by, I played for quidditch for Gryffindor, the youngest seeker in a century, and made good friends with Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley. We became friends when Quirrell let a full-grown mountain troll into the castle on Halloween, to create a distraction so that he could get past the enchantments guarding the Philosopher's Stone."

Snape and McGonagall looked taken aback by that, probably not able to reconcile the quivering, stuttering Professor Quirrell as a criminal. Dumbledore merely waited for the rest. He was appalled that the man would endanger so many lives to achieve his goals for his master. Then again he shouldn't have been surprised.

"Together, we killed the troll, and formed a friendship that lasted for years and years, through thick and thin, until they were both killed by Death Eaters." He saw them stiffen at that. He was trying to make this as easy on them as he could, so he spared them the details of how they had found Hermione's broken body, her face locked forever in a scream of agony, her limbs charred and blackened where they had burned her, and a lightening bolt carved onto her forehead with a dagger, as a message to him. Ron was just killed out of hand, after having been forced to watch them torture his fiance. Harry would never forget the blank look on his best friends face, the tear streaks still marking his face, disappearing into his fire-red beard. It had been one of the most difficult days of his life. What had made it more devastating was that he had just managed to vanquish Voldemort. While he had been battling the Dark Lord, the Death Eaters had ambushed and managed to overcome his two best friends. His heart still ached as he thought about it. He was nervous about seeing the two of them in this timeline. So many people he knew and loved were so much younger than him this time around. He was determined to give them a better shot at happiness this time. He swallowed his grief and continued his story.

"Quirrell managed to get past most of the enchantments guarding the stone, but Hermione, Ron and myself were hot on his heels. He was stalled by Professor Dumbledore's brilliant use of the Mirror of Erised, when I confronted him. He was possessed by Voldemort." He stated it blandly, knowing this was the least of the shocks they were going to get today. Dumbledore was smiling at Harry, pleased that his idea was considered brilliant. "Voldemort was stuck on the back of Quirrell's head, and was surviving by drinking unicorn blood." Snape made an expression of disgust at that and McGonagall and Dumbledore looked profoundly shocked. To defile the sanctity of one of the purest magical animals was unthinkable to them.

"That reminds me, we need to tell Hagrid to check on the unicorn herd in the forest. I am going to take care of Quirrell anyway, but it wouldn't harm to check up on them." To his amusement, Professor McGonagall gave a brisk nod, and conjuring a roll of parchment and a quill, she began making a list. He supposed he should have thought of it himself. "My mother died for me. I have heard her final moments in my mind, whenever a Dementor gets near me." He quietly wondered if that was truly among his worst memories any more. His parents had had an easy, quick death compared to some of the people he knew. "Voldemort offered her a choice. To step aside and let him kill me, or to die. She chose to die. Her sacrifice, knowingly or unknowingly, I'm not sure, created a powerful shield on me. Voldemort's curse backfired and he was ripped from his body, a mere wraith." He knew that they knew most of this but wanted to be thorough. "She was offered the choice thanks to Professor Snape's intervention on her behalf. He asked for her life to be spared." He looked at Snape levelly. Snape's eye were downcast, playing with a stray thread on the sleeve of his robe. Professor McGonagall looked quite shocked, but Dumbledore knew this so merely waited for the rest. If they expected Harry to vent his displeasure at the man for being callous about the death of his father and himself, they were sorely mistaken. Harry had made his peace with all of this years ago. "The choice triggered ancient sacrificial magic that protected me, and the curse should have killed Voldemort, but thanks to his Horcruxes, he survived."

Severus Snape went white at that news, though McGonagall only looked puzzled. "I'm afraid I'm unfamiliar with that term, Mr. Potter. What is a..Horcrux?" She asked hesitantly. It was Snape who replied. "It's the darkest of magic. Not many know this, but killing rips the soul of the murderer apart. Ancient dark wizards created a way to rip the soul apart and store it in a container. The host then cannot leave the mortal plane while a part of their soul exists." He said with distaste, not looking at anyone in the room. Perhaps he didn't want them wondering where his knowledge came from. He was well versed in the darkest of arts, but had pulled himself back from the brink, from the edge of no return. He was now firmly a light wizard who wouldn't dream of such dark rituals.

Harry nodded, his throat tight. McGonagall had gone pale, and was mouthing soundlessly. Dumbledore simply sat back, his eyes sad at the thought of such evil.

"When I confronted Quirrell, he tried to use me to get the stone." Harry decided to continue the story. If they paused as much as they already had, it would take him a year to tell them everything. "I, of course, didn't want to use the stone, but merely to keep it from falling into Voldemort's hands. I felt it slide into my pocket. In his attempt to take it from me, we discovered that Voldemort could not touch me. My mother's sacrifice still shielded me from him. He burned every single time we came into contact. Eventually I used that against him, grabbing hold of his face and making sure he was incinerated. I killed my first dark wizard at eleven." He had a shocked and rapt audience. Fortunately they didn't interrupt him. "The stone was destroyed, Voldemort was sent back to wander the wilderness as a wraith, Quirrell was dead and all seemed well in the world. But that was just my first year." He sat contemplative, watching them digest this information. The old anger towards them surfaced and he had to fight it down. He was so tempted to ask them what the bloody hell they had been thinking. Dumbledore didn't meet his eye, probably knowing what was going through his mind. Harry grimaced, but said nothing.

"We need to take care of Quirrell, get in touch with Nicholas and Perenelle Flamel, and ask them what they want to do with the stone. I also suggest the removal of all the "traps" on the third floor corridor. They were beaten by three first year students." he couldn't help the scathing tone that had crept into his voice. "Not very effective, are they? We don't want anyone to get hurt. They may not be as lucky as we were when faced with the enchantments." If either Snape or McGonagall were upset by his dismissal of their traps, they didn't show it, but they both looked in an accusatory manner at the Headmaster. To his credit, he didn't try to defend himself. Professor McGonagall made further notes on her list of things they had to accomplish.

"We move now into my second year. Not much to tell. A Horcrux was passed to the youngest daughter of Arthur Weasley, who was possessed by it and forced to open the Chamber of Secrets. Students were petrified, and it took some doing to find out what was doing the petrifying." He turned to Dumbledore casually, ignoring the shellshocked looks on the other two faces. "Did you know that Hagrid found a mate for his Acromantula and that they have a colony within the forest? Several hundred of them." He added blandly, watching the Headmaster pale. It felt a little good to make the man think about the consequences of his actions.

Professor McGonagall seemed to be doing a perpetual fish impression and Snape simply was speechless. "Mr. Potter, what was in the Chamber of Secrets and how was it defeated?" She asked breathlessly, having been in the castle as Dumbledore's apprentice at the time it had been opened. It was a shock to the entire magical community when Myrtle Wintle had been found dead. She hadn't been found for hours, and it was her own ghost that had alerted the staff to her murder.

"It was a Basilisk. Don't worry, it has already been taken care of in this timeline." He brushed them off, wanting to get through the story as soon as possible. Dumbledore gave a small nod. He could fill in his colleagues about the happenings in the Chamber later, they were working on a deadline. Seeing Professor McGonagall scratch down a few more points on a list, Harry had a feeling that the list was going to be quite long by the time he was done narrating what he knew. They had a lot to do and not a lot of time to do it in.

"The Horcrux was destroyed, the Basilisk taken care of and Ginny Weasley released from the possession with no long term side-effects except nightmares that stopped after a few years." He cleared his throat, feeling like they were now entering complicated grounds. "Third year was pretty normal by my standards, besides Sirius Black escaping from Azkaban and breaking into Hogwarts repeatedly." Snape's lip had curled at the mention of Sirius and Professor Dumbledore's eyes had sharpened.

"What you all don't know, is that Sirius was never my parents secret keeper." he stated, looking around the room. He dearly wanted to know if any of them were aware of that fact. Gauging by the looks of incredulity he was getting, it was apparent that none of them had known about the switch.

"But then who...?" McGonagall trailed off, suddenly realizing that an innocent ex-student of hers had spent a little more than a decade in the most horrendous place on earth. She blanched as she looked to Dumbledore. He was after all the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot and probably knew about Sirius' trial.

"It was Peter Pettigrew." said Harry in a monotone, feeling a surge of hatred for the rat. He had managed to finally get his silver hand into Remus in the previous timeline. He had literally impaled the werewolf with his hand, causing him a long and painful death by silver poisoning. There was nothing that could have been done for Lupin once the silver was so entrenched in his system.

Dumbledore's face cleared a little. "He framed Sirius!" he exclaimed, finally understanding the strangeness of Sirius' arrest. He was laughing like a madman when they found him in the middle of the muggle street, probably out of frustration. If he had suggested the switch, it was no wonder he had been repeating "I killed Lily and James" over and over. He was feeling guilty. Dumbledore suddenly felt like the air was taken out of the room as he realized that an innocent man had languished - no was languish _ing_ \- in prison.

He had a saddened look on his face as he related the happenings of that time. "The Ministry and the Wizengamot was under a lot of pressure to apprehend the last few followers of Voldemort at the time. Bartemius Crouch was the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. He summarily sentenced Sirius to life in Azkaban because he had confessed his crime." He paused, stroking his beard as was his wont. "I didn't think to question it because it was a cut and dried case. There was all the evidence that he had betrayed the Potter's and he also seemed a more likely candidate to be a Death Eater, given his family's predilections and the rumor that his brother Regulus was a Death Eater."

They digested that information in silence, as the inkling of an idea occurred to Harry. He had gotten over his anger that questions weren't asked about Sirius before he was incarcerated and that his Godfather had spent years in a prison for a crime he didn't commit. He had initially blamed Dumbledore but after interrogating several Death Eaters that they had captured in the previous timeline, he knew exactly who was to blame.

"Bartemius Crouch didn't want Sirius questioned under veritaserum." He told them tiredly. "You see, Sirius had discovered that his son Barty Jr. was a Death Eater. He wanted to hide the fact and arrange a small "accident" for his son to be killed in." Harry shook his head at the futility of it. "Unfortunately for him, his son was arrested a few days later for the torture of the Longbottoms. Crouch had no other course of action open to him but to imprison his own son, and let Sirius deal with his fate. Anything else would have meant the end of his career and Crouch is nothing if not ambitious."

They all took a moment to recognize Crouch's devotion to the Ministry. He had thrown his only son into Azkaban, without a second thought. He had been on his way to becoming the Minister of Magic when it had happened. That dream was locked up at the same time as his son.

Harry took the intervening silence to continue his story. "Sirius tried to break into Hogwarts to get to Peter Pettigrew." He saw them all sit very still at that information. "Yes, he is in the castle as we speak." he added, thankful that they weren't interrupting him. "Add taking care of him to your list Professor. He is not a threat as of now, he has no clue that we're on to him."

"Unfortunately, Pettigrew escaped in the last timeline, and was instrumental in getting Voldemort into a new body. He then became one of the "inner circle" and murdered hundreds if not thousands of innocents until he was finally killed by an Auror in Diagon Alley." Harry paused, collecting his thoughts. This was taking much longer than he thought it would. "Bottom line was that Sirius was a wanted man, imprisoned in his own house and relentlessly hunted by the ministry, until he was killed by his own cousin, Bellatrix Lestrange nee Black." He felt the old, familiar vitriol rise up in him as he thought of the crazy, raven-haired witch who had caused them so much grief. She had tortured Neville into insanity, cackling all the while about how he was going to "join his parents". Neville had been in St. Mungo's in the same ward as his parents when Harry had come back in time. He felt his gorge rise as he remembered the senseless cruelty of the woman. She was _truly_ dark. Someone completely irredeemable.

"Fourth year started with me being forced to compete in the rejuvenated "Triwizard Tournament" against my will." continued Harry bitterly, vividly remembering how that had ended. "A Death Eater in disguise infiltrated Hogwarts and charmed the cup into a Portkey. In a small graveyard just outside the village of Little Hangleton, I witnessed the rebirth of the monster who calls himself Voldemort. He used my blood to get himself a body. "The blood of an enemy, forcibly taken."" How clearly he remembered the words of the ritual. He saw Snape start as if he recognized it and reminded himself to ask the learned man if he knew of the ritual. They would try to stop him from rising this time by using that method.

"Voldemort forced me to duel him, without knowing that our wands share the same core." Dumbledore shot a glance at Fawkes at that, and whispered under his breath " _Priori Incantem..."_ Harry nodded at him, remembering the golden cage that had erupted, and the shades of all the people who had come out of Voldemort's wand and helped him escape.

He saw the horror grow on all three faces as he himself relived those days. His hope that the ugly child homunculus would drown in the cauldron and his terror as he saw the skeletal thin, snake-like man rise from the smoke and hiss out his first instructions in fourteen years to followers who still kissed his robes and trembled as his gaze passed over them. He shook himself, coming back to the present.

"The Death Eater who made it possible was none other than Bartemius Crouch Jr." Seeing their disbelieving faces, he went on. "In a fit of compassion towards his dying wife, Crouch Sr. arranged for her to take his son's place in Azkaban, where she died a few days later. Crouch Jr. has been held under the imperious curse for the last five years." He gestured to McGonagall to make note of that.

"Polyjuice potion." Whispered Snape, almost to himself. With a small nod in the man's direction, Harry continued. "Thus began the second reign of terror by the man who calls himself Lord Voldemort. He remained in the shadows, unnoticed for almost a year." A bitter smile swept across his face as he recalled the obstinacy of the Ministry in his timeline.

"The Ministry in their _wisdom,_ denied that I was telling the truth and preferred to believe that Albus and myself were cooking up a story to panic the people and de-stablize the Ministry of Magic." He gave a wry smile at their outraged expressions before continuing. "Voldemort tried to get his hands on the prophecy." He gave Dumbledore a pointed look, which was correctly interpreted as his desire to keep the prophecy to himself. He gave a small imperceptible nod. "He failed to retrieve it and a battle broke out in the DoM. The only casualty was Sirius, who was flung through the Veil while dueling with Bellatrix Lestrange." He well remembered his panic as he saw his Godfather arch through the veil, the smile frozen on his face. He remembered chasing Bellatrix through the Ministry and casting his first unforgivable on her. His eyes had a far-away look as he recalled the happenings after that.

Severus Snape had an extremely guilty look on his face. Harry knew it was because he had reported the prophecy to Voldemort. They had had a long conversation about it in the previous timeline, and he had forgiven the man, who had somehow turned into a friend in the midst of all the conflict they faced together. The hour was getting late and the sun was setting over Hogwarts. He had spent the entire day mostly in the Headmaster's office, trying to explain himself so that they would be better prepared this time.

"What followed was years of open and guerrilla warfare between the Death Eaters, and the supporters of the light. The Order of the Phoenix held them at bay for a while, until _your_ death." He gestured to Albus. This silence was the most profound he had heard since he had begun the tale.

"Harry, who...?" Dumbledore trailed off, and cleared his throat. His hands were clenched in his lap. Perhaps he wasn't as ready for his "next great adventure" as he had always made out to be, noted Harry with a small smile. It was good to know that the man was human after all.

Harry paused, knowing that this revelation was going to be hard to swallow. He phrased it as well as he could, to avoid any misunderstandings. "You got cursed by one of the protective enchantments on a Horcrux, and then engineered your own death by the hand of Professor Snape, to allow him to gain Voldemort's everlasting trust." Snape looked green at the thought, and Albus looked bemused. "So I sacrificed myself for the Greater Good?" he asked, almost to himself. Throat tight, Harry nodded.

"After Professor Snape killed you, he was immediately accepted as Voldemort's right hand man, and began working to bring him down from the inside. Unfortunately, his deception was discovered by Lucius Malfoy." Harry paused, conjuring himself a glass of water and taking a sip before continuing.

"Malfoy noticed that Snape had deliberately avoided cursing members of the Order of the Phoenix, and showed his memories to Voldemort. Fortunately, we had another spy in Voldemort's ranks by then, who learned that the summons for Snape was a death sentence, and warned him, almost at the cost of his own life." Harry recalled the mistrust that Snape had just shown him and smiled at the irony. "The plan between Albus and Snape was known only to the two of them at the time. It took weeks of dosing and re-dosing him with veritaserum before any of us would trust Professor Snape again." He remembered taking particular joy in interrogating the man, who he had hated because of his role in Dumbledore's death. It wasn't until Hermione had pointed out that he was behaving dark that he had stopped torturing the man for information. "We finally believed him, and together formed the core of the resistance."

He turned to Snape, his eyes full of respect. "You were killed by Voldemort himself, after dueling him for nearly fifteen minutes, a feat unheard of besides by Professor Dumbledore. You were killed while trying to shield an ally from the killing curse. That moment of distraction, and Voldemort hit you with a darker version of the freezing charm, and blasted your body into smithereens." Snape looked quite grim. He was well aware of the curse that Harry was talking about and he was wrong to compare it to the freezing charm. The curse caused the internal organs to begin freezing, culminating in the entire system shutting down due to the loss in temperature. It was said to be agonizingly slow, ending only when even the skin of the victim froze, like ice. He could almost picture himself being blown apart after turning into a brittle, blue statue-like version of himself. He stifled a shudder, looking back at Harry, who was still looking at him intently. "It's why I _irrevocably_ trust you. You died trying to protect a man you didn't even like, who suffered from lycanthropy, only because he was your ally. You died a hero."

Snape swallowed, unsure how to respond to that. He was more than a little taken aback that he had given up his life for Lupin. At the moment it felt ludicrous to even think of it. Yet he was humbled by the respect he saw in Potter's eyes. He knew that look was the outward sign of a bond only formed by those who had fought together in battle. Although he didn't have memory of it, he knew without a doubt that he and Potter were allies. Almost blood brothers. He gave a slow nod in Harry's direction, to show him that he understood and that he approved. They would fight together. He had said it earlier but it had just become much more real with the revelations of the last hour or so.

Albus and Minerva watched the interaction between the two men in silence. Albus was quite proud of the both of them. He, more than anyone else besides the two of them, had an inkling of the sheer amount of bad blood that lay between them. He was glad to know that they could put aside their differences to work together for a common goal. It filled him with hope for the wizarding world. He relished the feeling of hope, after hearing the tale of war and woe that Harry Potter was telling them. His attention went back to Harry, as he started speaking again.

"Many were lost. Hundreds died. In the end Voldemort took over the Ministry, and Hogwarts became the last bastion of hope for the light. Unfortunately, due to a hole in the wards placed by Salazar Slytherin himself, he eventually gained entry to the castle, and the fourth and final battle of Hogwarts took place." The sorrow on Harry's face was palpable, and Albus suddenly understood the looks of nostalgia he had witnessed on Harry's face as he looked around the school. As a person who dearly loved the school and the castle and the students within it, he now understood the sentiment Harry had inadvertently expressed when he had seen the castle full of life and filled with students. He smiled gently at his would-be student, understanding in his eyes.

"While the Order and the Ministry fought a slow battle with Voldemort, a battle they were losing, Hermione, Ron and myself were hunting his Horcruxes, around the country. We managed to destroy the last one just minutes before the battle erupted. It was his familiar, Nagini. We ambushed her in the Forbidden Forrest, and Ron managed to chop off her head with Gryffindor's sword." He gestured to the blade, which was leaning against the desk again. McGonagall and Snape looked at it with interest before turning back to Harry, who grimaced. That had been the last time he had seen Ron and Hermione alive. His triumph had turned to ash in his mouth when he had been informed of their deaths, and seen their bodies.

"That was the final battle. Voldemort had committed most of his forces to the assault, as the core of the resistance was here at Hogwarts. The school was still functioning, and many students died in the crossfire." He stopped, a haunted look in his eyes. "I had been training non-stop with Professor Snape, a couple of Aurors, an unspeakable and you" he looked pointedly at McGonagall. He sighed. "I didn't think I was ready, but there was no option but to confront Voldemort. The death toll was already high. We dueled on the grounds, and in the forbidden forest. It tested everything I have ever learned about magic. In the end, my mother's sacrifice saved me and saved our world again. Voldemort's wand and mine joined together again, forcing _Priori Incantem._ " Dumbledore's eyes widened, he probably understood the significance of that. "The shades of all the people Voldemort had killed came together, and they ripped his soul from his body. It was the last remaining piece, and so he was destroyed at last." They sat in silence. Outside, the sun had set, casting shadows over the grounds. The Lake glistened in the moonlight, with light ripples in it. Harry sighed. Hogwarts was truly a beautiful place.

"We won, but we lost." he sighed heavily. "The death toll was catastrophic. The magical world would not have recovered from it in the next thousand years. Ironically it would have taken the introduction of muggles and muggleborn wizards and witches into the gene pool to even get the population back to half of what it is right now. There were hundreds of orphans, hundreds of people injured beyond belief in the aftermath. There were also some Death Eaters who escaped, and were fugitives from justice. The Ministry was barely functioning, and most of the wizarding world looked at me like I was Merlin, and expected me to govern them." He snorted "There was even a poll going around about whether I should declare myself the "King" of the magical world." he shook his head. The wizarding world had not had a King since the days of Camelot and he was far from accepting of the idea. He had no intention nor desire to rule over people. Most of the time he just wanted to be Harry. Unfortunately, fate had chosen him for other things and now here he was, ready to ensure that the same mistakes weren't repeated. He was going to ensure the survival of the wizarding world. It almost made him laugh.

They sat, looking at each other in silence at the end of his tale. There was a lot to do and all of them couldn't even begin to comprehend how their actions were going to change the timeline and the events.

"I had an idea while talking to you about the happenings of the previous timeline." Harry stated tentatively. He wasn't sure if this was feasible.

"You mentioned Sirius' brother, Regulus." Dumbledore nodded at him to continue. "What you all don't know is that by the end, he was firmly on our side. He discovered the creation of the Horcruxes and was trying to hunt them down. He found one and stole it, but was unable to destroy it. Voldemort killed Regulus himself, alone in a dark cave off the coast of Wales. He petrified him and dropped him into a lake full of inferi." His distaste was mirrored on the faces around him, although the knowing glint in Snape's eye suggested that he had cottoned on to what Harry was proposing.

"There were no witnesses to his death, and only rumors." continued Harry. "Perhaps with a small glamor charm, I could pass off as Regulus Black. Claim I was in hiding or something for the last thirteen years." He looked around trying to gauge the reactions his idea would generate. McGonagall looked a little dubious, but Dumbledore looked intrigued. He stroked his beard as he considered the ramifications of doing what Harry suggested. He could see no obstacles as such. Most of the Black family was either dead or imprisoned, and with a glamour charm on him, nobody would look too closely at the resemblance Harry bore to the younger Black brother. It was just possible. He nodded contemplatively, but then had another question. "How do we explain the disappearance of your younger self from the Great Hall? There were too many witnesses to try and cover that up."

They all thought about it. Snape finally spoke up. "We are going to take care of Quirrell, are we not?" receiving nods of assent from the other three he continued. "We tell everyone that the threat of Voldemort possessing Quirrell was discovered by Regulus, who has taken Harry into protective custody. We can tell them that the Headmaster is aware of young Potter's whereabouts, and will ensure that he receives an education elsewhere, as Hogwarts is too dangerous for him." They were all mildly impressed with the idea but Harry felt compelled to point out the flaw. "Sirius was – _is_ my Godfather. Why would his brother have anything to do with me? As far as the wizarding public knows, Regulus was a Death Eater who was killed by Voldemort. Why would they trust him, returned from the dead as he is, with the _boy-who-lived?_ They all saw the intense dislike on his face as he scathingly called himself by the epithet the wizarding world had come up with for him. It had been during a dark time and he had proved a beacon of hope, but retrospectively they could see how it colored his entire life and made him stand out even more than he already did thanks to the events of his first year on the planet.

It was Albus who suggested a work-around this time. "We reveal that Regulus was working against Voldemort and went into hiding when he was found out. We then say that he met with Sirius before he went into hiding and was charged with the welfare of his Godson if Sirius himself was unable to look out for him, for whatever reason." His eyes twinkling, he added "It will cause some speculation as to why Sirius would be interested in Harry's welfare if he had betrayed the Potters, which will nicely tie up with us proving him innocent and getting him released from Azkaban." 

Harry speculated over what the Headmaster had suggested. It did make sense and it would be a step on the path towards freeing Sirius. This was the way he appreciated things being done. An open discussion among equals about their best course of action. He was feeling encouraged by this meeting, hoping that this was the way they were going to proceed. He felt their chances would be greatly improved with this kind of cooperation and coordination. He was about to answer affirmatively, when Fawkes let out a shriek. Albus looked at the Phoenix in alarm.

"The Minister and his entourage are on their way through the Floo. Are we in agreement about the cover story?" They all gave a quick nod, as Harry pointed his wand towards himself. Thinking hard about Sirius, he cast a quick glamour charm on himself. He reached for the sword of Gryffindor and placed an advanced obscuration charm on it and placed it back where it had been, even as the Floo turned green.

Cornelius Fudge walked out of the flames, followed closely by Lucius Malfoy, much to Harry's chagrin. He wanted to strangulate the man with his bare hands for the deeds he had committed in the previous timeline. Delores Umbridge walked out next, along with Griselda Marchbanks and to everyone's surprise, Augusta Longbottom.

"Good evening Minister, ladies, Mr. Malfoy. How can I help you?" Asked Albus Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling at full force and his grandfather persona firmly in place. This was going to be a long and politically dangerous meeting.


	7. Chapter 7

Harry had changed his facial features to resemble those of his Godfather's. Not too closely though. The changes were subtle, the most obvious ones being his eyes changing to the dark gray that most of the Blacks had. His hair became a little longer, and smoothed out a little so that it lay flat on his head and flowed slightly down almost till the nape of his neck. His nose became a little more aquiline and his lips a little thinner. It wasn't much, but he knew without looking that he could pass as a Black to anyone not very familiar with them. He was thankful to the Tonks of his timeline for giving him tips and tricks to change his appearance. He was not a metamorphmagus, although he did have some of the traits and so it was comparatively easy for him to change his appearance with the help of the charm. He could use his magic to manipulate his features a little bit. He knew exactly what he looked like, since he had used this disguise several times in the previous timeline.

"Good Evening Minister, ladies, Mr. Malfoy. How can I help you?" he heard Dumbledore ask as he scrutinized each of the visitors in turn. Madame Umbitch he knew was the Senior Undersecretary to the Minister in his timeline, so her presence was explained. He assumed that Lucius Malfoy was here in his capacity as one of the Governors on the Board of Hogwarts. He knew Griselda Marchbanks was the Head of the Department of Magical Educational. He was a little surprised to see Madame Longbottom with them. He knew that she also served on the Board, but she had never involved herself in the running of the school in his timeline. He could recall meeting her briefly only once or twice. He knew that she had died of grief shortly after Neville had been hospitalized in the original timeline.

"I'm most disturbed by the troubling reports coming out of this school, Dumbledore." Said Fudge imperiously, while helping himself to a seat on the visitors side of the desk. Albus, Minerva, Severus and Regulus had all stood up when they knew they were soon to have visitors. "By all means, take a seat." said Dumbledore, slightly sarcastically and over-magnanimously as he made his way to his own chair behind the desk. The sarcasm either flew over the Minister's head or he simply ignored it. He waited with his foot tapping as Dumbledore settled himself in his own chair. Dumbledore conjured some more chairs as he faced his visitors, briefly glancing at his staff and the door. Understanding the message, Professor McGonagall made her way towards the door. "We shall continue our discussion later then, Professor Dumbledore." she stated softly as she gestured for Snape and Regulus to come with her.

"Wait!" exclaimed Fudge, the three of them turned around to see him pointing at Regulus. "Is this not the stranger who appeared in the Great Hall?" Albus simply nodded his head, waiting to see what the Minister would do or say next.

"You wait right here!" he commanded, turning back to Dumbledore without bothering to see if his instruction had been followed. McGonagall gave a terse nod towards the guests, and walked out. With a short bow towards the two ladies and a neutral look in Malfoy's direction, Snape made his way out of the office behind McGonagall. There was a short silence as the occupants of the room looked around at each other. Regulus stood casually leaning against the wall, internally smiling at the bureaucratic bullshit he was about to witness. He had his arms crossed nonchalantly, and was waiting for the questions to come. The Minister didn't ever seem to have an idea that had not been born in Malfoy's head, so he waited for the main player in this meeting to begin speaking. He didn't have to wait long.

"We have heard troubling reports, Dumbledore. The Board of Governors have expressed their concerns. A missing student? A stranger appearing through the wards? Strange happenings here at Hogwarts. I've been sent by the Board here to remind you that you are still answerable to us. Your shenanigans have gone on for long enough." he said with a malicious smile.

Malfoy got a sharp look from Madame Longbottom because of his tone and his attitude. She felt he needed to be reminded that they were both representing the Board of Governors. " _We've_ been sent to find out what has been going on, Professor Dumbledore. We have to take an interest in the safety of this school and the students." Lucius shot her an irritated look, but didn't say anything.

"Yes, explain yourself, Dumbledore!" exclaimed Fudge excitedly, perspiring a little, his round head shining in the candle light. "Start with explaining who that is!" he jerked his thumb over his shoulder, in the general direction Regulus was standing in. Regulus stepped forward. With a small, formal bow that was quite common among purebloods, he introduced himself. "I am Regulus Arcturus Black, Minister Fudge." His simple words caused a round of gasps around the room.

" _Hem Hem"_ How he loathed that voice and it's fake clearing of it's throat. He swallowed his rage and turned his innocent looking eyes towards Umbitch. She began in that simpering, little girl voice that he had come to despise. "Regulus Black was a Death Eater, killed by You-Know-Who almost thirteen years ago, young man." She said condescendingly. "Who are you and why are you pretending to be him?" Her voice sharpened by the end of her statement. Regulus looked at her intently for a moment, his gray eyes unwavering. "How do you know that Regulus Black was killed by _You-Know-Who?_ " he asked her innocently, mocking her use of the hyphenated pseudonym for Voldemort. "Everybody knows that!" she snapped back at him, losing her honeyed voice when she realized that he was mocking her. "Pardon me, Madam," said Regulus, using the cultured tones that a pureblood was trained to use. "I'm standing right here, so I don't see how "everybody" knows that I was killed." He smiled at her, his eyes cold. She went red, and swelled up, about to retort, before the Minister came to her rescue.

"Now see here! Black - or whoever you really are! You can't just go around impersonating a dead man. I won't have it! You are obviously an imposter, Mister, under Polyjuice Potion!" his face was turning red as he worked himself up. Regulus mentally rolled his eyes. He amused himself by imagining Snape's reaction to the foremost leader of the Ministry not knowing that Polyjuice potion didn't work if the subject was dead. It was why Crouch Jr. had kept Alastor Moody alive in the last timeline.

Everyone else in the office was watching this exchange in silence. Regulus gave the Minister a smile, and simply shrugged. "I don't know what to tell you Minister, but I _am_ Regulus Black, and even the observational powers of you and your staff should be sharp enough to realize that I am _not_ dead" he added sarcastically, rolling his eyes in exasperation. Fudge seemed to be inflating like a balloon. "Regulus" was forcibly reminded of his Uncle Vernon, about to go apoplectic. Lucius Malfoy's dulcet tones cut over the Minister's yet-to-be-formed retort. "I happen to have known Regulus Black." he observed, looking Regulus up and down with disdain. "You resemble him, surely, but you are not him."

"Oh?" asked Regulus with an arched eyebrow, gleeful that Malfoy had given him this opening. "How do you claim to know me Mr. Malfoy?" he did some quick calculations in his head. He knew that Sirius had been in his first year when Malfoy was the fifth yeah prefect for Slytherin and he had been a third year when Malfoy was Head Boy. Regulus was two years younger than Sirius. "I was only a first year when you were the Head Boy here at Hogwarts. I remember seeing you but I don't ever recall being introduced to you. When and how did we allegedly meet?" he asked with wide eyes, internally dancing at the spot Malfoy had put himself in.

Malfoy could hardly admit to knowing Regulus from Death Eater meetings in front of the Minister, because he had claimed he was under the imperious curse. Victims of the imperious curse tended to lose a lot of memories from their time under it's influence. He simply looked daggers at Regulus, at a loss of what to say. Regulus wasn't done though. He pretended to be thinking about something before dramatically snapping his fingers. "That's right!" he exclaimed. "You probably think that you know me from when you were a Death Eater!" There were sounds of outrage from the Minister and his Undersecretary, and Augusta Longbottom let out a snort that she changed into a cough. Regulus could see Albus' mustache twitch a little as he suppressed a smile. Lucius' face had gone pale with rage, and his nostrils were flared. "I was under the imperious curse!" he snarled forcefully, looking around as if daring someone to refute his claim. "The Minister himself has pardoned me!" he continued. "And besides that -" Regulus' eyes held murder in them as he interrupted Lucius. "And besides that, the Death Eaters used to wear masks, don't you remember?" He saw Malfoy get even more enraged. He was really enjoying himself. He didn't miss the warning look Dumbledore shot him. They didn't want to push too hard. " _Hem Hem."_ Not completely suppressing his disgust, Regulus turned back to the toad-like woman who sat on the chair beside the Minister, her feet barely touching the floor. "Are you admitting to being a Death Eater, young man? You seem to know a lot about what they did and didn't do." she stated him with false sweetness. "The Ministry of Magic will still persecute those that have served He-who-must-not-be-named." she continued. Regulus smiled at her and raised his sleeves for all of them to see. "I have never and will never serve that scum who calls himself a Lord, who I _will_ name _,_ Voldemort." The Minister almost fell out of his chair at the name, and Umbridge's face lost all color. Lucius Malfoy tightened his lips but made no comment. Madame Griselda Marchbanks seemed to be enjoying the show, saying nothing. Augusta Longbottom pursed her lips at the taboo name, but otherwise had no reaction.

Lucius Malfoy was staring at Regulus, his fists clenched. He knew he couldn't admit to knowing him from the Death Eater circles he used to move in. He was also adamant that this was _not_ Regulus Black.

Dumbledore decided to intervene before the situation got worse. "It's true that Regulus was a Death Eater in _name_ ," he began, ignoring the sharp look he was getting from the younger man. "Yet he was actually infiltrating Voldemort's camp, and trying to help defeat him from the inside. He was never branded as a Death Eater, and committed no crimes besides associating with the dark for the benefit of the light." He looked at them all in the eye over his half-moon glasses. "Mr. Black worked tirelessly against the dark, and when he was about to be found out, he went into hiding to protect himself. That is where he has been for the last thirteen years." They all stared at him nonplussed. Lucius Malfoy's stormy gray eyes were flashing. He was probably aching to reveal that Regulus had been a loyal Death Eater but couldn't without incriminating himself. He had tried hard over the last eleven years to ensure that people forgot his involvement with the Death Eaters and Voldemort he didn't want them asking the same old questions again.

"Come now, Dumbledore. Eleven years ago you spouted the same nonsense about the Death Eater Severus Snape. He was never questioned, purely on your say-so!" The portly Minister was clearly working himself up into a righteous rage. "How many people will you claim were actually light wizards working against He-who-must-not-be-named?" he scoffed. "The way you tell it, several followers of _his_ were actually spies. Seems hard to imagine that he wasn't brought down earlier than he was with these paragons!" Regulus had to admit that the normally silly man actually brought up a good point. He wondered how Dumbledore was going to counter that. He knew that they couldn't afford to have Snape questioned if they were ever going to use him as a spy again, should the need arise.

Dumbledore cleared his throat. "Cornileus, Regulus here was never charged with a crime. There were merely rumors about his involvement with Voldemort." He waited until the usual reactions to the name made its ripples around the room. He took a deep breath. What he was about to do was a huge risk, but he was banking on Harry being completely honest to the best of his knowledge, and that his knowledge was correct. "I, Albus Percival Brian Wulfric Dumbledore, swear on my life and my magic that Regulus Black worked against Voldemort and was not a _true_ follower of his." There was a flash as his oath was accepted. Everything he had said was actually true. Regulus had proved to definitely not be a "true" follower of Voldemort. He had attempted to destroy a Horcrux and that definitely counted towards working against Voldemort. The Minister, Madam Marchbanks and Madam Longbottom looked at Regulus in newly minted awe, but Lucius simply sneered.

"That clears the name of Regulus Black and proves that he was not a _loyal_ Death Eater." he said this with a cold glare in Regulus' direction. "That does not, however, prove that this man _is_ Regulus Black." he observed with an elegant gesture in Regulus' direction.

"He does have a point." stated Augusta Longbottom quietly. She more than most others hated the Death Eaters with a passion after what they had done to her son and her daughter-in-law. To find out that the son of another pureblood family was not one of them was quite a relief. That didn't prove that this was the same man though.

" _Hem Hem"_ They all turned to Umbridge, even Cornelius looking a little exasperated with her mannerisms. "The Minister can check this information with the use of veritaserum." She said triumphantly. "Dose him, Minister, and we shall have the truth out of his mouth."

"Yes!" exclaimed Fudge, excitedly, snapping his fingers. "You! We shall take you with us to the Ministry and we shall get to the bottom of this! Madam Umbridge, summon the Aurors and have them take this man into custody." Umbridge made a move towards the fireplace, probably to use the Floo to get a hold of the DMLE.

Regulus stepped forward before she grabbed the Floo powder from the mantle, having expected this. "Minister, I am the secondary heir of a Most Noble and Ancient house. It will take a majority vote by the Wizengamot to question me under veritaserum." Umbridge looked like she had swallowed a lemon, as she looked back to Fudge for further instructions. "The same is true of trying to force me to do a blood test. Reasonable doubt must be proved before you can get the votes to get me to do a blood test as well." Regulus was enjoying using the purebloods own self-serving laws against them.

"Mitigating circumstance. Must not allow impersonation of dead people. Ministry must safeguard the interests of the public." Fudge was murmuring under his breath, probably planning how he was going to sell this if he went against the laws created by the Wizengamot purebloods.

Regulus shook his head in mock sorrow, before looking at Lucius, but speaking to the Minister. "The law clearly states that the Head, primary and secondary heir of a Most Noble and Ancient house can only be questioned under veritaserum with the full support of and in the presence of a majority of the Wizengamot." He saw Lucius' face twist as he realized where he was going with this. He himself had made use of that law to ensure that he wasn't questioned under veritaserum. It was how he had pleaded "imperious". The Wizengamot had not been able to put together the votes to question him, given the dark leaning of several of its members. Now after eleven years, things had changed, and he wasn't as sure that he would still manage to stack the vote. As much as he hated the fact, he could not allow the Minister to set a precedent of ignoring that particular law. Too many of his associates would also then be questioned. He could not allow that.

"I'm afraid he is correct, Minister." he said stiffly, seeing Augusta Longbottom nod out of the corner of his eye. She too was a member of a Noble and Most Ancient house and she knew that this was indeed the law. It had initially been put into practice to not allow family secrets to be spilled by the three people most likely to know them: The head of house, the primary heir and the secondary heir. It had been introduced sometime in the sixteenth century and had yet to be updated. The law still stood.

Cornelius was looking helplessly at the others in the room. At a complete loss of what to do. He had to accept this imposter as Regulus Black for the moment it seemed. He decided to switch tracks.

"What about Harry Potter, eh?" he asked Dumbledore. "Where is the boy-who-lived?" Regulus again bypassed Dumbledore by answering the question again. "A year after I went into hiding, my brother Sirius Black had been named as the Godfather to the then unborn Harry Potter. Lily Potter was expecting her child, but James Potter had already named my brother the Godfather." He looked around. This was all a matter of public knowledge. There were small nods from Madam Longbottom and Madam Marchbanks. "I don't need to explain to you how serious the duty of being a Godfather is in pureblood families. I contacted my brother, as he was the only member of my family that had sided with the light, and informed him that I was going into hiding, and told him of my role in the war against Voldemort." There were the usual reactions to the name. He rolled his eyes. "My brother charged me with the care of his godchild, in the event that something were to happen to him. As he was one of the stalwarts of the Order of the Phoenix, he was often in the midst of the skirmishes between the Death Eaters and the forces of the light." There were several scoffs of disbelief around the room, including from Madam Longbottom. She had known Sirius Black as he had also been an Auror with Frank and Alice. His betrayal had hurt them almost as much as the Potter's as he had been their friend as well.

"Sirius Black is a convicted mass-murderer!" cried Fudge indignantly. "Why would he care about his godchild when he himself betrayed the Potters to You-know-who?!" Grateful that the man had used the phraseology he had, Regulus raised one eyebrow.

"Convicted?" he queried, injecting some surprise into his voice. "Convicted would assume that he was actually given a trial!" he almost exploded, his old anger at the injustice meted out to his Godfather surfacing. "My brother was thrown into Azkaban without one!" he all but hissed, stepping a little closer to the Minister. The man tried to shrink himself back into his chair. He truly was a coward.

"B-but he was their s-secret keeper!" Fudge almost whimpered, feeling more than a little intimidated by the dark-haired wizard who was glowering at him. "Everybody _knows_ that!" he stated.

"It's funny how so many things that "everybody" seems to know turn out to be incorrect." growled Regulus with a scathing look at Umbridge. She bristled, but said nothing.

"Harry Potter is under my protective custody. It is currently not safe for him to be seen in public." He stated in a dangerous voice. "I will not risk the life of my brother's Godchild to appease your curiosity. Suffice it to say that he is safe."

Fudge was mouthing soundlessly, at a loss as to what to say to that. Madam Longbottom came to his rescue, with a genuine question.

"Mr. Black, why didn't you take young Potter into your custody when his parents died and your brother was incarcerated? Why wait so many years?"

"Precisely!" Half-shouted Fudge, nodding his head vigorously. Madam Longbottom shot him a look of disdain. It was typical of the man to jump on the bandwagon and pretend he had been there all along.

Harry turned respectfully to Augusta Longbottom. He knew that it was a logical question, and that she was not really trying to impede him in any way. "Madam, it's a simple explanation. I did not know where he was." He said quietly, gesturing to Dumbledore. "Professor Dumbledore has been was the only one who knew where he was for the last eleven years, to further protect him."

Professor Dumbledore nodded, his fingers resting under his chin. "After Voldemort's defeat, little Harry Potter was still in danger from the surviving Death Eaters. I placed him under wards that would protect him from danger. He was kept away from the fame of growing up as "the-boy-who-lived". Yesterday marked his first appearance in the magical world."

"And his last, if reports are to be believed!" exclaimed Fudge, with his usual theatrics. "The boy is a beacon of hope, Dumbledore. He's a national hero for Merlin's sake! I want him found, and handed over to the Ministry."

Regulus' eyes were cold as he ground out. "Perhaps you misheard me, Minister. Harry will _not_ be put in danger so that the Ministry can be seen doing something for their "national hero". Where was the Ministry for the last eleven years?" he asked coldly, looking intently at Fudge.

The man seemed to have rallied though. "Be _that_ as it may Mr. Black, or whoever you are, we have a duty towards his safety. Until his whereabouts have been ascertained and his safety ensured, the Ministry will search for him. I shall call a meeting of the Wizengamot and we shall get to the bottom of this." Fudge rammed his bowler hat back on his head.

"Madam Umbridge, please go to the DMLE and inform them that Harry Potter is missing, and that Headmaster Dumbledore and this man who claims to be Regulus Black know of his whereabouts but are refusing to divulge the information." Umbridge nodded, while Fudge paused to think.

"We shall investigate this matter. Find out who the boy's magical guardian is, and we shall talk to them about pressing charges against Dumbledore and Hogwarts." 

Albus cleared his throat. "You'll find that I am Harry Potter's magical guardian, Cornelius. It was ratified by the Wizengamot, after the sealing of the Potter will."

None of them noticed Regulus' eyes flash at that. He was suppressing his anger towards Dumbledore for placing him with the Dursleys. He knew that the blood-wards depended on him living with a relative of his mother's but he also knew that there were several other ways to keep him safe. It was a matter for another time.

Fudge looked exasperated at having been out-maneuvered again. "Then I shall request that a formal inquiry be launched by the Wizengamot, about your suitability to be his guardian, given your disregard for his current whereabouts. You can expect to be called in for a hearing soon." He got up and marched to the fireplace, where he threw Floo powder in and disappeared in a whoosh of green flames.

Madam Umbridge followed the Minister, shooting a filthy glance at both Regulus and Albus. Regulus sneered back in her direction. He really loathed that woman.

Lucius Malfoy stood and looked at Regulus up and down with his cold gray eyes. "You have not heard the last of this, imposter." He stepped into the fireplace, still glaring at Regulus until he disappeared, probably to Malfoy Manor. He was followed by Madam Longbottom, who shrugged helplessly at Dumbledore. "The Minister is within his rights to call for a hearing, Professor Dumbledore. I shall see you in the Wizengamot chambers." Dumbledore merely inclined his head. Madam Marchbanks didn't say anything as she gave them both a cheery wave and walked into the fire. Regulus and Albus looked at each other. They were far from out of the woods. They still had to decide what they were going to do about the missing eleven year old Harry Potter. This was going to be political quagmire, and they still had so much to do within the school. The resumed their seats in silence, as Dumbledore sent off two Patroni to call Professors McGonagall and Snape back. It was going to be a long night.


	8. Chapter 8

Professors Dumbledore, Snape, and McGonagall along with a man presumed dead for the last thirteen years were meeting in the Headmasters office at Hogwarts. They were all tense as they thought about their next course of action.

"That wasn't the last we are going to hear of this." Dumbledore warned them. "The Ministry will be hell bent on scoring political brownie points with the public. I'm surprised there hasn't been more of a reaction to the news that the boy-who-lived has disappeared." They all saw the distaste on the young man's face again at the mention of that title. He noticed the looks and shrugged.

"I get reminded of what my parents sacrificed every single time someone says that or calls me that." His mouth tightened and his eyes flashed. "People celebrate the defeat of Voldemort, without bothering to consider what was lost. Some even asked why I didn't join in the celebrations."

They all looked disgusted at that. If Professor McGonagall was being honest, she had also not considered that Halloween would be a trying time for Harry Potter. To watch everyone celebrate the defeat of darkness while he himself was mourning the death of his parents. She shuddered as she recalled him saying that Dementors brought forward those memories for him. She could not imagine what he felt when he heard his mother plead for his life in her last few moments.

"Anyway." said Regulus, brushing the matter aside. "We must decide what is to be done about the Ministry with regards to my younger self. Ideas?" he looked around the room, knowing that the four of them were among the most powerful wizards alive today. He felt grateful he had their support. He trusted each one of them, and although they did not feel as comfortable in his presence, to him it was like a home coming. Even Snape had grown on him in the last timeline. He would go as far as to say that the two of them had been on their way to being friends.

"There is one way..." said Snape pensively. "There is a potion. Ridiculously rare and expensive ingredients, and very, _very_ difficult to brew - but it does cause the temporary illusion of de-aging." he looked around the room. "We could probably use that to have eleven year old Harry Potter express his consent at being the ward of Regulus Black, who can then say that they have decided to keep him away from the British magical world until he is of age." Regulus was impressed with the idea, and so were McGonagall and Dumbledore but they all had questions.

Since it was him they were discussing, Regulus felt free to speak first. "Why isn't this potion used more often? I can imagine that several witches and wizards would love to regain their lost youth." he said with a humorless smile. This was the first he was hearing of this potion. He knew that there were aging potions, but they didn't truly pass any real test of the person's age. "Will the illusion pass the scrutiny of the Wizengamot?" he asked.

Snape thought about it for a moment. "The reason that this potion isn't well known is simple. It is a creation of my mother, Eileen Prince." He paused, glaring around the room as if to daring any of them to ask _why_ she had created it. There was no comment from any of them. They were all staring at him expectantly.

"The illusion _should_ pass casual scrutiny, but wouldn't hold up against something like a goblin disguise-removal ward." He paused, collecting his thoughts. "It's limitation is that it last for about three hours. Think of it as a Polyjuice potion that allows a person to look like their younger selves for a short while, instead of someone else. It even has some of the same ingredients as the Polyjuice."

"You mentioned some rare and expensive ingredients." observed Minerva. "What are they and how will we procure them?" She had a good friend who worked in an Apothecary in London. She was sure that she would be able to help them.

Snape grimaced. "It's damned nigh impossible to get them." They waited with baited breath. "I need three grains of sand from a time-turner, and the tail hair of a demiguise."

McGonagall looked glum at that. She knew as well as anyone that demiguise hair was exorbitantly expensive and difficult to find. The creatures were native to the Far East and notoriously difficult to capture due to their pre-cognition ability. The only way to do it was to be completely unpredictable.

As for time-turners, they were Ministry regulated and could only be acquired with a written application and a very, _very_ justifiable reason as to why one was required. The DoM also actively monitored their use and strictly punished anyone who misused them. Creating a time paradox was a massive headache to clear up.

Regulus had a completely different question. He was sure they could figure out where to source the ingredients, however difficult it was. The ingredients themselves interested him. "Sand from a time-turner, representing the past and things gone by. Hair of a demiguise, creatures that are known for their pre-cognition and ability to briefly know the future. Interesting contrast in the ingredients. Don't they react badly?" Snape turned to him in surprise and with no small amount of respect. Apparently the man was an adept potioneer. "They are balanced out with a red crystal. The crystal weight is calculated according to the weight of the subject -" Dumbledore cleared his throat. He could see that both men were getting engaged in discussing the depths of the ingredients of the potion and as fascinating as he found it himself, they needed to move things along.

"Perhaps that is a discussion for another time, Severus, Regulus." They both nodded, exchanging a look that implied they would definitely be discussing it in depth as soon as they had the time. Severus Snape was surprised. The last person who had asked him such an insightful question about a potion or its ingredients had been Lily. Perhaps her son had inherited her academic interests and gifts. He turned back to Dumbledore, who had a twinkle in his eye. "I have a friend, who can probably help with that particular ingredient. He has a demiguise named "Dougal" if I'm not mistaken in my recollection. You may have heard of him, a Mr. Newton Scamander."

"The magizooligist?!" Regulus asked in some surprise. This was something he had not known in the previous timeline. He vividly remembered having a chocolate frog card of him though. It had mentioned his Order of Merlin, Second Class, as well as the names of his kneazles, which Regulus could not remember now.

"The very same." smiled Dumbledore, recalling his bumbling ex-student who had caused a lot of controversy in his life, both at Hogwarts and then later in the United States. They had remained in close correspondence through the years, and though the man had "retired" a few years ago at the ridiculously young age of 93, he knew that he would help them in their bid to defeat Voldemort.

"I shall go visit him in Dorset, and have a word with him regarding this matter. However, I fear I will be of little use with regards to the sand." Dumbledore frowned. "Perhaps Mundungus Fletcher could check the black market and some of the seedier apothecaries in Knockturn Alley for us."

Both Minerva and Regulus made a face at the mention of the untrustworthy little crook. They both had their own reasons to dislike and distrust the man. However they said nothing, as their need was greater than a grudge.

Regulus was looking thoughtful. "The Department of Mysteries has time-turners do they not? Perhaps we can _borrow_ one for out own use." There were snorts from both Severus and McGonagall at that. "I don't know about how it was in your timeline, Pot- Black, but the DoM is one of the most warded and secure areas within the Ministry here. Regulus merely smiled at them. "Leave that to me." he said confidently.

"Shall I still ask Fletcher to check what he can find out?" asked Dumbledore. Regulus nodded. It couldn't hurt to have more than one option. Despite his confidence of being able to get through the wards at the DoM, it would be better if they had an easier way, even if it turned out to be more expensive.

"How long does the potion take to brew?" he asked, knowing that if the brewing process was as complicated and long as Polyjuice then they were looking at about a month.

"A few weeks after I get the sand and the demiguise hair, give or take. It helps that I already have stewed lacewings, and that I have most of the ingredients for the potion on hand." Regulus nodded. It was a more time consuming plan than he had initially thought it would be, but it was their best option.

"Then until the potion is ready, I think Regulus Black must disappear again." He saw nods of agreement from around the room. "How will you handle the Wizengamot, Albus?" he asked the Headmaster, knowing that he would be in a tight spot once they began questioning him.

"I shall use one of the best weapons in my arsenal, my boy." He paused dramatically before stating his weapon. "I am Albus Dumbledore." Minerva smiled at that, but Regulus maintained a carefully schooled expression. He wasn't sure how he felt about the man peddling his influence, even if it was to their gain. However, now was not the time for moral conundrums. They had a task to accomplish. He nodded his head, and stood up. The time for talk was coming to an end, it was time for action.

"Then I suggest we take care of the Horcrux we have and then deal with Quirrell." Seeing nods from around the room, he pulled the diadem out of his pocket, and removed his obscuration charm from the sword. McGonagall gazed in shock at the lost diadem, a little wistful. "Is there no way to save the diadem?" she asked, not wanting to see the destruction of one of the heirlooms of their school.

Regulus smiled gently. "I'm afraid not, Minnie. They magic of the Horcrux is so potent that only the destruction of the container with the most powerful magic possible will ensure the destruction of the soul-shard." She gave a terse nod.

The three of them stood behind Albus' desk as Regulus placed the Horcrux on the ground in front of him, and raised the sword above his head.

"One piece at a time, Tom." He muttered under his breath as he brought the sword crashing down on the Horcrux. There was an awful shriek as the diadem began melting, and black smoke came out it. The smoke formed into the face of the dark lord, before it screeched it's way out of the headmaster's office and into the inky sky. There was a scorch mark on the floor, and that was the only proof that there had existed something in its place a moment ago. Regulus gave a small, grim smile. Two down.

He looked up to see both Snape and Dumbledore looking somber, while McGonagall was clutching at her chest, her face pale. "That's one piece of Voldemort's soul sent to hell. Only a few to go." he said, transfiguring a scabbard for the sword out of a spare thread dangling from his robe. He spared the details, making a simple leather sheath that would fit over his right shoulder, allowing him to draw the sword into his left hand. It wouldn't hold for long, given the basilisk venom, but it was good for a few hours. He didn't miss the proud and impressed look he got from Professor McGonagall. "As a wise man once said – there's no time like the present to get things done." he said with a wink in Dumbledore's direction. "Let's go take care of Quirrell." Dumbledore nodded, and made his way around the desk. McGonagall was a little more hesitant, but nodded all the same. Severus Snape grimaced.

Regulus noticed it and realized that the man had come to the same conclusion that he himself had. He could not come to help against Quirrell. They could not afford to let Voldemort see him working in cooperation with the forces of the light. He nodded at the man, confirming his thoughts. "If he does come back, we are going to need you more then." he said quietly, well aware of how it felt to be left out. "Perhaps you can ready the ingredients for the potion in the meanwhile. May I meet you in the dungeons post this?" he asked. Snape nodded at him tersely, before giving McGonagall and Dumbledore one of his little bows, and walking out of the office, presumably to the dungeons.

Minerva McGonagall had to admit she was nervous. If someone had told her earlier in the day that she would be heading to deal with a man possessed by the Dark Lord, she wouldn't have believed them. That made her think of something else.

"Wait a minute!" she cried, stopping Regulus and Dumbledore in their tracks. "You both saw how Fudge refused to believe that this was Regulus Black," she said, gesticulating wildly. "He was adamant that there was some massive cover-up going on. He will _never_ believe that Quirrell was possessed by You-Know-Who if it's just us telling him so!" Regulus nodded at once. He knew that she was absolutely right. He had prior experience with how good Fudge was at sticking his head into the ground. "What do you suggest?" he asked, wracking his own brain to come up with a solution, even as he cursed himself for not having thought of this himself.

"Perhaps we should arrange for someone to witness it. Someone whose character cannot be questioned and who has clout at the Ministry." suggested Dumbledore. Regulus nodded slowly. He knew just the person. "Contact Madam Amelia Bones." he said, growing more confident in his idea as he spoke. "She has had an exemplary career at the Ministry, and no one would question her honor or veracity." They both nodded. Regulus continued, almost to himself. "Getting her to see that we aren't a bunch of lunatics running around spreading lies will probably help when we declare that Sirius is innocent." He saw them both widen their eyes as they realized that he was correct. "It will not hurt to have the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement on our side." he mused.

They all paused, as Professor McGonagall made the Floo call. It was quite brief, and she stepped back from the fireplace. A second later the fire flared green and the severe, monocle-wearing witch stepped out of it. "Professor Dumbledore." she greeted, dusting soot of her robes. She nodded at McGonagall, before turning to the other occupant of the room. "I don't believe we have met young man, I am Amelia Bones, Head of the DMLE. And you are?" She asked as she stepped forward, looking at Regulus with interest. She noticed he had a sword strapped to his back, and that he held himself like a soldier. She was quite used to seeing this kind of presence, she did work with some of the best Aurors and Hit-wizards in the world after all.

It had not yet been thirty minutes that Dolores Umbridge had stormed into her office, claiming that someone was impersonating a dead man. She claimed that the man said he was Regulus Black. All she knew about the younger Black brother was that he had been rumored to be in the Dark Lord's inner circle, and that he had been murdered for betraying the Dark Lord.

Anyone who had betrayed the Dark Lord could not be completely bad, she had thought to herself. She rejected out of hand the claims that the man was using Polyjuice Potion. If Regulus Black was indeed dead, the Potion would be inert and would not work when his essence was added to it. She had told Umbridge that she would look into it in a dismissive and bored tone. She was indignant that the woman had the audacity to tell her that she _must_ begin an investigation at once. It took some harsh words before she had accepted that the Minister did not have the authority to demand immediate action and that criminal activity was her purview. The toad had marched out of her office. Amelia had found herself curious and had then called for the file they had on Regulus Black and read up on now looked at this man in interest. It had been her intention to stop by the school the next morning, when Minerva McGonagall had Flooed her with an emergency that required her assistance. She scrutinized the man, who looked quite at home here in the Headmaster's office. He definitely looked like a Black and appeared to be approximately the same age that Regulus Black would have been had he been alive, according to the file. Unfortunately, the file had a picture of the man from his Hogwarts graduation. Fifteen years could make a huge difference in someone's appearance.

Some part of her brain also recognized that she needed to keep an open mind, this could actually be Regulus Black, after all. Magic was a strange force, and stranger things had been known to happen in the DMLE. The young man looked to be about thirty one or thirty two years old, and carried himself with aplomb. He had the kind of arrogance that only came from being the pureblood progeny of one of the ancient houses.

"That is not important at the moment, Amelia." said Dumbledore, gently but firmly. "It has come to our knowledge that Quinerus Quirrell is being possessed, and we were about to go and deal with him. We wanted you along as a witness." Madam Bones raised her eyebrows. Regulus wondered how her monocle remained in place. "As a witness, Albus? Not in my capacity as the Head of the DMLE?" Albus Dumbledore inclined his head, wondering if he should drop the problem in her lap, or take the time to explain everything. He knew that if they took the time to explain who Regulus was, even just the cover story, they'd be here until midnight. A glance at Regulus got him a subtle nod.

Deciding that she could handle it, he stepped forward, drawing himself to his full height. He needed her to believe him and help them get along with their task in a timely manner. "Amelia, he is being possessed by Lord Voldemort." he pronounced, fully ready for the usual flinch at the name. She did flinch, her whole body involuntarily jerking at the name. Dumbledore sighed internally. It was a mark of how deeply Voldemort had scarred their society that the leader of their crime division couldn't bear to hear his name. "B-b-but that's impossible!" she finally stammered, her monocle falling out of her eye this time. She looked quite vulnerable, wide-eyed with her monocle dangling on it's string down her chest. Her face had gone pale, and she was breathing as if she had run a mile.

"You-know-who was defeated by Harry Potter, Albus! He can't be back, he just can't be!" she was nearly hysterical. Regulus observed her carefully. He knew that it was a shock but he felt that an Auror of her standing shouldn't be having this kind of reaction. He knew he was being slightly unfair, as he had years to assimilate the fact that Voldemort was alive, but still, he had expected her to be made of sterner stuff.

"Madam," he spoke in a gentle yet authoritative tone. "I assure you that the Headmaster is speaking the truth. Using dark magic, the spirit of Voldemort has possessed Quirrell." He ignored her flinch at the name. "I intend to deal with him myself, but we require someone to witness it, so that it cannot be refuted by the Minister at a later date. Please. Gather yourself, time is of the essence." She rallied at that, and rallied strongly. "I don't know who you are, sir," she said, looking at him down her nose as she replaced her monocle. "but as the Head of the DMLE and as an Auror, if anyone deals with him, it will be me." She declared strongly, taking out her wand and standing with her head held high. It was apparent that she was still afraid, but she was determined to do her duty. She had the admiration of all three in that one moment.

Regulus shook his head slightly. "We don't have the time to explain everything to you right now, Madam, but please believe me when I say that I am uniquely qualified to handle this situation. Please, just be prepared to stand witness to what happens." he said firmly, in a tone that would brook no argument.

Both the Professors were impressed. It was a tone they were intimately familiar with, having both used it on countless students. It seemed to have worked, for Madam Bones turned to look at Dumbledore for guidance. He nodded, his eyes bereft of any hint of a twinkle, his face completely grave. "Very well." She said. "I will come along with you all, but I expect a full explanation as soon as is possible!" She directed the last at Dumbledore and McGonagall, who both nodded.

Dumbledore gestured for them to leave the office but was stopped by Regulus turning back to the fireplace with a look of dread on his face. It had just occurred to him to call in someone else to witness this.

"We need someone else to see this." he said tiredly, scrubbing his hands over his eyes. It had been a long and eventful day. It was only his first day back he thought to himself mirthlessly. He really didn't want anything to do with the person he was about to suggest but he knew they had no option if they wanted a half-way accurate report to be in the newspapers.

"Madam Bones, will you please ask Rita Skeeter to Floo to Hogwarts to witness this? It would probably help to have someone from the press along." he said, not bothering to cover his distaste for the woman. She thrived on the misery of the wizarding world. He often felt that her animagus form should have been a vulture instead of a bug. He snorted to himself, even while realizing that he had her in his pocket this time. She would not want to be outed to the Ministry of Magic for flouting the Animagus Registration Laws.

Madam Bones had the same look of loathing on her face as he did, but she did acknowledge grudgingly that having the nosy reported along would definitely get the story out to the public. She threw in the Floo powder and made the call.

A few minutes later, Rita Skeeter stepped through the fireplace, in a ruby red skirt-suit, with a cream blouse and her horn-rimmed glasses on her nose. She had a red handbag with her, and had completed her outfit with a pair of red high heels. Regulus wanted to laugh at how absurd she looked with so much red on her, but stopped himself just in time. "Madam Bones, a pleasure as always. What am I doing here?" she asked, looking around the room. She sent a small nod in the direction of Professor McGonagall, and stuck her tongue out at Dumbledore, who merely gave a taut smile. She then looked over at Regulus, and her look turned almost into a leer as she took him in, from top to bottom. Regulus suppressed a shudder. He had dealt with her before but she had always seen him as a child in the previous timeline, and had never looked at him with such open – lust. "Well, hello." She purred, holding out her hand, her nails long and painted red, like claws. "And who are you?" she asked with a coquettish tilt of her head. Regulus looked at her in alarm and then looked at the Headmaster for help. He saw the amusement on Dumbledore's face before he rescued him.

"Ms. Skeeter, his identity is unimportant at the moment." he said, breaking her attention away from Regulus. She had been looking at him like a particularly juicy steak she was going to devour. Keeping the amusement off his face, Dumbledore adopted a stern mien. "We are in the middle of a situation, and would like for you to witness it yourself, so that the report of it in the paper can be as _accurate_ as possible." He said dryly, stressing on the word "accurate". Skeeter was well known for the freedom of her quill and her reports were often filled with fanciful conjecture, speculation, and figments of her imagination. Just recently she had reported that the meeting of the ICW was basically a "government funded vacation for degenerates who spent their time sipping cocktails with umbrellas in them and smoking cigars and pipes instead of discussing the issues of the day." She had managed to gloss over the fact that they had come to a decision that would benefit werewolves around the world, probably at the behest of someone at the Ministry. The public had been left feeling that their representatives to the ICW were doing nothing for them. They needed an accurate report of this incident, so that the public was aware of the danger, and the Ministry couldn't hide the truth from them.

Regulus stepped forward, forcing himself to look the woman in the eyes. "I'm sure that Rita here will be absolutely accurate. He said, staring at her, infusing meaning into his next words. "It would really _bug_ me if she wasn't." She flinched, losing her lustful look as she realized that he _knew._ Her eyes darted around the room, and she quickly realized that everyone else was lost when it came to that statement. He was the only one who knew. She would have to report this accurately if she wanted to keep it that way. She gave him a nod, to show that she understood. She felt a grudging respect for him. Blackmailing someone was something that she herself would have done. She wasn't too miffed about it being used against her. Especially with someone as gorgeous as this man in front of her. She slanted her eyes at him and smiled, a little irritated when he looked away and gestured for the others to gather around.

"This is the situation." He started, looking around him. "Professor Quirrell is possessed by Voldemort -" He rolled his eyes as everyone started at the scream that Rita had let out. She covered her blood-red stained mouth with her hands. "What are you _saying?_ " she asked, looking at him in horror. " _What_ are you saying?" she repeated in shock. Her babbling led to Professor McGonagall rolling her eyes and Professor Dumbledore begin to explain. "My dear, -" was as far as he got before he was rudely and loudly interrupted.

"ENOUGH" roared Harry, at the end of his patience. "We will never get anything done at this rate!" he exclaimed in exasperation. "Ms. Skeeter you have to merely be present and report the incident as you see it." He said with a clenched jaw. "We _cannot_ keep explaining things over and over again. We shall have a debriefing after the situation is handled. Whatever questions you have shall be answered if we can. For now we must leave ASAP. This situation can turn even more dangerous with every minute we waste." He saw Madam Bones raise an eyebrow at his use of Auror terminology but she said nothing.

Rita gave a meek nod, and took out her quill and parchment from her bag with trembling hands.

"Let's go." said Regulus, leading the odd group of people through the now quiet hallways of Hogwarts.


	9. Chapter 9

**\- A/N: This chapter is shorter than most. I found it a little difficult to write an action scene which had some sense of pace. I wanted to do justice to the fight scene. I want to show Harry/Regulus as a man who will do what is necessary to fight Voldemort, but who still has some remorse for what he is forced to do. I intend to reveal his relationships with some people from the previous timeline that are completely AU. His relationship with McGonagall and Snape are foremost on that list. Harry/Regulus is not going to have much interaction with the others who are his age in canon, but will work with a whole different group and interact with them as an adult. Please review, I'd love to get some feedback about where this story is heading. I don't have an update schedule as such, but right now the muses are smiling and I'm uploading as I finish each chapter. Cheers!**

The odd group that comprised of the transfiguration Professor, the Headmaster , the Head of the DMLE, a scurrilous reporter, and a man presumed to be dead walked down the corridor of the seventh floor, leading away from the Headmaster's office. The school was silent, save for the muted chatter of the portraits they passed. It was now past curfew. Regulus heard a small rumble from his stomach and realized that his meager lunch of sandwiches had been quite a while ago. He steeled himself, knowing that he had to get this done before the timeline changed so much that Quirrell became unreachable.

They descended the stairs in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. All of them had their wands drawn, with the exception of Skeeter, who was walking at the back of the group, already noting down something on her parchment. The rumble of staircases moving below them was loud and grating in the quiet night as they walked down to the third floor. Regulus found himself quite amused as they all skipped past one of the trick stairs instinctively, with absolutely no thought. Skeeter didn't even look up from her parchment. He wondered what outsiders thought about these quirks in the ancient castle.

In no time at all they found themselves outside the DADA classroom. Regulus pictured the room in his mind. They stood quietly, poised to burst in. He closed his eyes for a moment, recalling the iron chandelier that hung from the ceiling, and the Dragon skeleton that was also suspended there. He pictured the staircase leading to the DADA Professors office. He opened his eyes, and cast a small detection charm on the door. Wards. Multiple wards, many of which he could not discern the purpose of. He stepped back, and gestured for Dumbledore to check them. He waved his wand at the door, with a look of concentration on his face. His expression became quite somber. He shook his head at Regulus.

"I believe that he will be alerted as soon as we attempt to bring down the wards." He spoke softly, not wanting to give their target any clue that they were here. Regulus nodded, and then mimed knocking on the door, and pointed at Dumbledore. He gestured to McGonagall, Bones and himself to stand on either side of the door and for Rita to stay out of the way. There were quick nods all around. Regulus drew the sword in his left hand and held his wand in the right. Dumbledore looked around once, and then knocked on the door.

There was silence from the inside, followed by the sound of footsteps approaching. The door opened, and Dumbledore stepped forward quickly so that Quirrell didn't see the others. "Good Evening, Professor Quirrell, I'm sorry to disturb you so late. I wanted to discuss the situation regarding Harry Potter with you."

"H-H-Harry P-P-Potter, you s-say?" stuttered Quirrell, moving backwards. He apparently dropped the act quickly; perhaps Voldemort had got a flash of Dumbledore's intentions through Legilimency or it was just his hatred of Dumbledore surfacing, but the next thing the people outside heard was spell fire. Regulus rushed around the corner through the door, to see the two of them already locked in an intense duel. They were silently casting at each other furiously. It was obvious that Voldemort was in control because there was no possibility of Quirrell holding his own against Dumbledore. The others standing at the door seemed to be shocked into stillness as Regulus interrupted their duel, sending spells of his own at Quirrell. The spells he was using were border-line dark. He ignored the shell-shocked looks from the rest of them.

This was no time to play nice. He had absolutely no compunction with double-teaming Voldemort along with Dumbledore. That the man was still standing under the dual assault of the two of them was a credit to his magical skill and dueling prowess. He whirled away from a blood boiling curse that Regulus sent his way, and flashed an unknown curse at Dumbledore, who moved one of the desks into the path of the sickly orange ray headed his way. The desk blew apart, showering them all with splinters as it fell. Dumbledore was quick to respond, conjuring a whip made of water that attempted to wrap itself around Voldemort.

Voldemort turned Dumbledore's water into a hissing jet of steam and sent it back at him, and then continued the motion, sending a flaming whip towards Regulus, that was meant to decapitate him. It whooshed towards him, startling all the others out of their stupor. They leaped into action, with Madam Bones firing off a stunner in Voldemort's direction, which was batted aside almost contemptuously. Professor McGonagall transfigured the chairs and desks strewn around the classroom into wolves which ran, teeth bared and snarling at Voldemort.

Regulus meanwhile countered the fire whip with a freezing charm, causing the flames to freeze in mid-air, looking like a beautiful ice sculpture which he shattered with a hefty blow from the sword, even while using his wand to send the shards screaming back at Voldemort like shrapnel. Each sliver of ice was as sharp as a needle, and there were hundreds of them heading towards the turban-clad, possessed teacher. His reflexes were nothing short of amazing.

He pointed his wand at floor, causing it to open into some sort of hole, which swallowed up all but one of the wolves, who swerved around it and jumped over in the last moment. His wand twirled expertly around himself in the next instant, diverting the shrapnel to either side of him. The speed at which he wielded his wand was simply astonishing. The ice flew past him on both sides, like a stream being broken by a rock in the middle. A single shard got through, piercing his shoulder and causing him to hiss in pain. That moment of distraction allowed Professor McGonagall's wolf to close in on him. The huge gray beast leaped up with it's canines bared, getting a grip of the man's wand arm.

Professor Dumbledore used the moment to fire a bludgeoning hex at the man, which Voldemort managed to deflect, even while trying to shake the huge wolf off his arm. It shot off at an angle, heading straight towards Madam Bones, who had yet to send anything other than her initial stunner at the man. She dove out of the way, dragging Rita Skeeter down along with her. It exploded against the wall, causing the glass in the large window behind them to shatter, a gust of wind showering them all with smithereens of glass. The cold wind howled in from the window, creating a maelstrom of glass splinters around them and causing the candles in the chandelier to flicker and die. The torches in their sconces were flickering madly, casting huge, distorted shadows on the walls. They all instinctively covered their eyes as the glass flew around them. Regulus used that moment of distraction to cast an advanced restraining spell at Quirrell, whose off hand was shielding his eyes, while the wolf worried his wand arm.

" _Ferrum Tenaci!"_ He snarled, injecting his absolute desire to restrain Voldemort into his magic. The spell was a dull silver and flew across the room faster than most of them had ever seen a spell fly. It connected with Quirrell's neck, and forced him to his knees. The man was letting out guttural grunts as he tried to fight the magic. Regulus knew that the spell made it feel like iron bands were contracting over you, tightening more and more as he struggled against them. Voldemort was displaying his amazing amount of magical power as he fought the spell. His wand clattered out of his hand, and the wolf let go of his arm, hackles still bared, as it stood guard over the man. He was forced down onto his knees, his arms snapping to his sides as the spell overcame him. With a hoarse cry, the turban flew off his head, displaying the disfigured face of Voldemort which was attached to the back of his skull. In a show of supreme magical strength, he fought off the effects of the spell long enough to turn his body around, scrapping his knees on the glass covered floor, so that he faced the people gathered against him.

"Fools!" he hissed, his eyes narrowed with malice. "Lord Voldemort shall return. Perhaps not today, and perhaps not now, but I shall rise again. I shall remember this!" The last few words came out almost like a scream, as the physical host he was in began to feel the intense pain of the constricting iron bands getting even tighter around him.

Regulus' gray eyes were cold and devoid of emotion. "Perhaps you will rise, Tom. And I'll be waiting for you." In a flash of cold steel, the sword of Gryffindor arced across the back of Quirrell's neck, severing his head from his body.

The four other people stood in abject shock, as the headless corpse retained it's kneeling position for a horrendous second, before toppling sideways and falling down, the head a bit away from the trunk of the body. A darkness began to pool around the wound, looking like congealed blood and black smoke at the same time. There was a screech, similar to the one emitted by the Horcrux they had just destroyed. It formed into Voldemort's face, and screeched as it flew full-tilt at Regulus. He dropped to one knee and conjured a large silver dome shield, that looked like a Patronus. The specter moved away from it, as Regulus stood up, and walked forward with the shield in front of him, herding it towards the open window. With a last defiant howl, the shadow disappeared into the night. "Lord Voldemort shall return!" The sound faded off, leaving the sound of the wind blowing hard through the shattered moment. Regulus stared out over the grounds, which looked peaceful and unaware of the struggle that had just occurred.

He stood there for a moment, breathing hard, before turning back to the flabbergasted people in the room. They still looked at him in shock. Professor McGonagall's lips moved soundlessly and as she waved her wand, the lone wolf that had survived the encounter disappeared. Madam Bones kept looking from Quirrell's corpse to the blade, which now had the dull sheen of blood on it. Rita Skeeter was sitting against the wall, her eyes transfixed on the sword, bugging out much like an insect as she sat in silent shock. Her quill and parchment lay discarded on the floor beside her. Regulus was sure she would remember every single detail of what she had just witnessed until the day she died.

He looked down at the fabled sword. There was gore dripping of the tip of the blade and onto the floor. He _scourgified_ it and then looked back at all them defiantly. He had learned in the original timeline to put his enemies down. Hard and permanently. The analytical part of his mind was already reviewing the duel that had just happened, and he was storing information away for future use. Dumbledore had a fluid and continuously evolving style of dueling that was devastating, and Professor McGonagall had used a simple (for her) transfiguration to great use. He inwardly scoffed at the Head of the DMLE's weak stunner, although he knew that in a panic situation people could often not think of the spells they wanted to cast. They had stopped using stunners in the previous timeline after several deaths caused by an assailant that had been simply rejuvenated by their comrades.

Put them down hard and put them down permanently had become their motto in the last two years of the war. Realizing that none of them were really capable of speech, Regulus ignored them, and stared around at the devastated classroom. He was surprised that their mini battle hadn't attracted more attention from the other staff members and the students. They had obviously made a lot of noise. He was quite thankful they didn't have to explain it.

He stood in the center of the room, and moved his wand in one sweeping motion around the room, a small smile on his face as he recalled watching in awe as Dumbledore and Horace Slughhorn had accomplished the same feat in Budleigh Babberton when he and the Headmaster had gone to recruit the old Potions Master in the original timeline.

The desks and chairs righted themselves, and went back to their original positions. The cracks in the walls caused by the deflected spells repaired themselves, sealing up and showing no sign of their existence. Tiny splinters of glass rolled over the floor, heading back to the window where they formed back into a pane which set itself back into the frame. The hole that Voldemort had created disappeared, making the floor whole again. The candles which had gone off when the window broke re-lit, casting a warm glow in the room. If not for the headless corpse in the room, it looked as the classroom had always looked.

"Regulus, was that really necessary?" asked Dumbledore with a saddened voice. His eyes were full of regret as he stared down at the corpse in the middle of the room. Regulus pressed his lips together, suppressing his annoyance. He realized that he had to come to terms with the fact that all these people had had a break from the war for the last eleven years, and were unused to violence. He also knew that the second war had been far more bloody and murderous, as the people fighting against the dark had resorted to killing as well. It had led to an escalation in the amount of bloodshed.

"Albus, Quirrell was a dead man walking the minute he accepted the possession. What you saw here was _consensual possession._ It was definitely not a forced possession or else we could have attempted an exorcism. He would have died anyway, and the ritual to remove Voldemort's spirit would have taken us additional time, as well as perhaps allowed the man a chance to escape. I could not allow that." They stood in silence, contemplating his words.

Madam Bones seemed to be regaining her power of speech, although her voice shook. "Young man, you cannot appoint yourself as judge, jury and executioner!" she exclaimed, her voice gaining some of it's usual force. "As the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, I'm afraid you have to be taken into custody. That was completely unacceptable." Regulus' anger flared immediately and bit down on the urge to verbally lambaste the woman. It was not a good idea to alienate her. He gritted his teeth as he replied. "Madam, you just witnessed that man attempt to kill all of us. You _saw_ Voldemort!" Her immediate flinch irritated him to no extent. "You sent a _stunner_ at the most dangerous and evil wizard in the world, and then _castigate_ me when I ended things in our favor?" He snarled, hard-pressed to control his anger. It was behavior such as this that had allowed Voldemort and his Death Eaters such a free reign in the previous timeline. The inability or lack of desire to strike back. He took a few deep breaths.

"You witnessed the man being possessed by Lord Voldemort. I will claim self defense if the Ministry tries pressing charges. I will also call in any Unspeakable as a witness, who will ascertain that a consensual possession leaves the host _dead._ " Madam Bones looked uncertain at this point. Regulus sighed. "Madam Bones, I realize that this comes as a shock. Take a minute to process this. If you really want to press charges against me, I will come quietly." That said, he turned away from her, and taking a page from Barty Crouch Jr.'s book, he transfigured the body and head into a bone. He would bury it in the Forbidden forest. He smiled grimly at that.

Putting the bone in his pocket, he turned back to the others. "Have we finished questioning whether or not I did the right thing?" he asked sarcastically, looking at each of them in turn. Dumbledore met his gaze evenly, his blue eyes dimmed and still showing deep disappointment. Regulus shoved the tiny feeling of guilt that the man was able to raise in him down ruthlessly. McGonagall looked at him, with a small amount of fear in her eyes. Perhaps she was afraid that he would turn dark since he had been so willing to take a life, and had done it so easily and with such little remorse. If only she knew. He gave her a gentle smile. "Minnie?" He had grown to love her in the previous timeline, as she had been like a mother to him. Not coddling and fussing about him the way Molly used to, but she had been his rock, his counselor and at times his conscience when he had been forced to make tough decisions. To see fear in her eyes when she looked at him hurt him far more than witnessing Dumbledore's disappointment at his willingness to kill.

"Was that really necessary?" she asked in a hoarse whisper. He nodded somberly, sincerity in his eyes. "I'm afraid so. There was _no_ other way." He hope she believed him, it mattered more that she did than that the others did. She nodded slowly, still unable to come to terms with it, but at least giving herself a chance to think about it before judging him too harshly. He turned to Madam Bones. The woman still looked absolutely conflicted, unable to decide whether she could condone this or not. She met his gaze unflinchingly though. "I cannot say I approve of your methods Mr. Black. I must think upon it. We must be careful to not _become_ that which we fight." Regulus nodded, completely agreeing with her. He had heard similar thoughts from other people in the previous timeline and knew that several light wizards _had_ turned sadistic in their dealings with the Death Eaters. They had been out for vengeance more than justice, and he had disagreed with them. He found himself seeing where she was coming from.

"I shall think upon this, and speak to someone from the DoM. If there was a chance to save Quirrell, the _slightest_ possibility of saving the man, then I'm afraid I shall have to take you into custody. Don't leave Britain, Mr. Black." She warned him with a steely glint in her eye before giving them all a small bow, and sweeping out of the room. She looked troubled.

Regulus turned his attention to Rita Skeeter. "Ms. Skeeter are you alright?" he asked, allowing some kindness into his voice. He knew that it was not often that someone witnessed a violent battle and death the way she had, and he had some sympathy for her. He himself had been hardened to blood being spilled, having fought a war for the last few years of his life. She nodded shakily, not attempting to move from her position on the floor. She looked a little green, like she was going to spew any moment. Knowing that it happened to the best of them, he silently cast a stomach calming charm on her. She looked at him gratefully and started to speak. Her voice broke. She licked her lips and swallowed and then started again. "That was the _scariest_ thing I've ever seen." Regulus had never seen the woman look more human than she did in that moment. He was used to her being sly and snide and snarky. She looked absolutely vulnerable in that moment as she locked gazes with him, a serious look on her face.

"I can assure you of an accurate recounting of this incident, Mr. Black. The public _needs_ to know what happened here, and that He-who-must-not-be-named is still very much a threat to our safety." Regulus gave a satisfied nod, and held out a hand to help her get up. She got to her feet slightly unsteadily, before flinging herself into his arms.

Regulus held her, slightly in shock, as her shoulders shook. Raw, wretched sobs came out of her, as her shock and grief came pouring out in tears. She stood there for a moment, in his arms and then leaned back and wiped her eyes with her hands. Dumbledore wordlessly conjured a handkerchief which he passed to her. She accepted it gratefully, and wiped her face. Stiffening her lip, she gave them all a nod, before turning and walking slowly out of the classroom. And then there were three.

Regulus looked at the two of them, who looked like the after-effects of the battle were just setting in. Minerva gave him a small nod, which made him feel much better.

"I hope you two understand. This is not a conflict that can be ended easily, with words and soft spells. If that _monster_ comes back, hundreds will die. Thousands even." His eyes were filled with tears of anger that would not spill down his cheek. "I do what I have to. I _will_ do what I have to. If that makes me a monster in your eyes then so be it. You don't know what I've seen. You don't know what I _know_." He paused, taking a moment to control himself. Seeing the accusation in their eyes had made him think about what he had done for the first time in a long time. It _was_ difficult for him to take a life, even if it didn't look that way. He turned away from them, intending to head down to the dungeons. He knew from past experience that at least Severus would not condemn him for his actions. The man understood the necessity of making hard choices. "Think about it, Professors." He said softly with his back to them, and then walked out of the room leaving behind two confused educators. This war of this timeline was just beginning.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: I've decided to keep the average length of each chapter around four thousand words. There may be longer chapters or shorter chapters, but as of now this is the approximate length. Hope you guys are enjoying the story. It's just pouring out at the moment, so fingers crossed that that continues. Thank you all for reading and thanks also to those of you who have reviewed the story. Cheers.**

Harry made his way down three floors and through the eerily silent Great Hall. He took a moment to appreciate the clear September night, as it was reflected in the enchanted ceiling. Nary a cloud, and the stars shining bright. There was no moon that night, and the starlight was absolutely breathtaking. He trudged through the hall and made his way down into the dungeons. The castle was silent, it's residents slumbering peacefully, completely unaware of the evil that had just been banished from their midst.

The Potions classroom and lab were empty, so Harry turned around and made his way to where he knew Snape's quarters were. He stood in front of a blank wall, knowing that the wards on the place would let the Potions master know that he was here.

A minute later the wall shimmered, and disappeared. Harry stepped through into the abode of the most terrifying teacher at Hogwarts, who he had called friend in the old timeline. He nodded in greeting at Snape, who was wearing his usual black robes. Snape gestured for him to have a seat, and went through the door to his potions lab. Harry knew it was his lab as it was where he had learned a lot of what he knew when it came to potions. He looked around the room as he waited for the man to return from whatever was keeping him in the lab. He knew better than to disturb him when he was brewing or preparing ingredients.

Snape's quarters were sterile, and utilitarian. He had a small receiving room/parlor with a few robust brown leather armchairs in it, and a small fireplace. A small wooden cask stood there. Harry knew that it swung open into a small cabinet, where Snape kept his favorite liquor. There was a picture of his mother on the mantle, and a portrait of Cleopatra the Alchemist on the wall. It was a muggle painting, or a magical one whose charms had worn off long ago. Harry knew that she was something of a hero to Snape, and an original copy of her alchemical text "A Dialogue of The Philosophers and Cleopatra" was one of the mans most prized possessions. The other wall had an enchanted window that showed the edge of the Forbidden forest.

He looked around the room appreciatively. They had spent many an hour in here discussing ancient Alchemists and Potioneers over a glass of Fire-whiskey or wine in the previous timeline. Snape had inculcated a deep-seated desire to learn about ancient influential people in Harry. He knew that this Snape was not the same man, yet he also felt hopeful as they didn't have seven years of antagonism to overcome this time. If he could get through to Snape early on, he would make an excellent ally. The man himself walked out of the lab, wiping his hands on a towel that he then _evanescoed_ away.

"Drink?" he queried, heading towards the small bar besides the fireplace. Harry nodded, using his knowledge of the man to startle him a little. Perhaps the prankster nature he had inherited from his father would never completely go away. He had never felt confident enough to prank people in the previous timeline, having to overcome his treatment at the Dursleys and deal with the awe of the wizarding world. He named a bottle that he knew Snape was saving for the defeat of Voldemort. "Yeah, I'll have a glass of Macallan's Magical Fire-whiskey. The 1946 blend if you have it." he said with a straight face.

Snape turned around with raised eyebrows. "Expensive taste Po- Black. But if you think I'm opening that bottle on your say so, you're sorely mistaken." Harry suppressed a grin. Snape had always been formal and straight-laced and it tickled him to get a rise out of the man. "You can call me Potter, when there's nobody else around or if it's just Dumbledore or McGonagall." he said with a wave of his hand. Snape inclined his head, manfully containing his sneer at the name. Harry supposed it was easier for the man to refer to him as "Black" as even though he and Sirius had never got along, he had had no issue with Regulus and have even tutored the boy for his potions O.W.L. "You could also just call me "Harry." stated Harry quietly, as Snape poured out two goblets of Fire-whiskey.

He turned around and offered one to Harry, with an unfathomable look on his face. "Harry. You may call me Severus." He said stiffly, as he raised his goblet. Harry raised his goblet to the man, and took a long swallow. The fire-whiskey burned as it went down his throat, he sighed in satisfaction. They each took a sip and then sat in silence. Without being asked, Harry described the events leading to Quirrell's death. Snape sat in silence through the tale, without a twitch. He nodded decisively when Harry explained how he had beheaded the erstwhile Professor. "While there might have been less grisly ways of ending him, it was definitely necessary." he said quietly, having no idea how much relief Harry felt at the words. He knew that Snape would understand. His knowledge of the dark arts meant that he didn't need it explained to him that it was a consensual possession and what that meant. He had also inferred the reaction the killing had without being told. Apparently his bitterness towards Albus' reaction had crept through in his story.

"Pot- Harry, you mustn't be too hard on the Headmaster." he said quietly, swirling his whiskey around in his goblet. "The man has always been a pacifist. He abhors violence and the taking of life." Harry nodded, well aware of this. He knew that it had taken an astronomical death toll and the pleas of the entire wizarding world to get him to go after Gellert Grindelwald. The friendship of their youth aside, Dumbledore had truly not wished to kill him. It was his mercy that now had Grindelwald locked up in Nuremberg. Several people who were not as pro-Dumbledore as the majority of the wizarding world and knew that Grindelwald was alive, said that Dumbledore still visited him in the summers, trying to rehabilitate the old Dark Wizard. Harry wasn't sure he believed that. It was a far stretch of madness, even by Dumbledore's standards.

Harry ran his hand through his hair in frustration. "It could get _bad,_ Severus. The sheer number of people who could die, be tortured, raped, burned alive and kept as slaves is mind-boggling. We _cannot_ allow that to come to pass." He stood up, and paced around the room, his goblet in his hand. For a moment he felt he had his friend back and he allowed himself to voice what was worrying him.

"Fighting fire with fire has never been a good option, but in this timeline _we_ have the advantage. We have certain knowledge that can help us get ahead. I'm not saying we should go on a rampage and kill every known Death Eater, but we must retaliate to deadly attacks with deadly force." Snape nodded slowly. Harry knew that his opinion on the matter would be along the same lines. It had taken both of them and Ron days and days to convince Minerva, Hermione and the rest of the remaining Order members to use deadly force when confronted with the Death Eaters.

"We couldn't really go on a "rampage", even if we wanted to." said Severus slowly. "Nobody knows the identities of _all_ the Death Eaters. Not even among their ranks is everyone known." Harry threw himself back into his seat. "I know. But I do know several of them, some of whom would surprise even _you._ Yet some haven't committed any crimes in this timeline that I know of. They're _potential_ Death Eaters. I'm facing a moral conundrum." Snape gave a very typical smirk at that. "And you've come to _me_ to be your conscience? You clearly didn't know me very well in the original timeline if that is the case. Despite your intimate knowledge of the contents of my liquor cabinet." he said the last dryly, getting a belly laugh out of Harry. The mans unique brand of dry humor was much appreciated after a long tense day. It wasn't even close to ending. He still had one task that needed to be completed before he could rest for the night. Pettigrew. He couldn't stand the thought of the duplicitous rat spending one more night in close proximity to the boy who he had loved like a brother in the previous timeline.

"How goes the preparations for the potion?" asked Harry, downing his drink and proffering his goblet to Snape for a refill. "I have all the ingredients on hand, barring the two we discussed before." said Snape as he refilled both their glasses by the fireplace. "How do you intend to get your hands on a time-turner? He asked as he resumed his seat, taking a slow sip of his drink. "I have a few ideas." said Harry with a smile. He wanted to check them out before committing himself by telling someone else his plans. He knew he would come to Snape for the final plan. The man was a strategic genius. Harry smiled a little as he recalled the epic battles that chess matches used to be between Ron and Snape. They both played at well above Grand Master level, and though had never bonded much, each had respected each other as the only worthy opponents they had ever faced. "I will tell them to you when they're a little better chalked out." he said, downing the second drink. The warm glow of the liquor in his belly made him feel a little better about the long day that he'd had. He couldn't believe how much had happened in the span of one single day.

He stood up, stretching his arms over his head, stifling a yawn. "Last order of business: Pettigrew." he informed Snape, while walking to the door. "Coming?" Snape downed his own drink, and then followed Harry out of the door, which sealed itself back into a wall as they walked out. They made their way up to Dumbledore's office in silence. They could have used the Floo, but both wanted the walk to clear their minds and gather their thoughts. Snape stared at the young Potter out of the corner of his eye. He was turning out to be quite a mystery. Snape couldn't shake the feeling that they were going to get along splendidly. The idea of being on good terms with the son of James Potter was the strangest one he'd had in a while. Yet there was something about the man. A presence that almost rivaled that of Albus Dumbledore, which was quite astounding given his age. He was a babe in arms by wizarding standards. They walked up to the gargoyle, with Snape giving the password with a sour look on his face. "Sherbet Lemon." Harry stifled a smile as the gargoyle moved aside, and they stepped up on the spiral staircase. They walked into Dumbledore's office to find him and McGonagall chatting over a cup of elf-wine. Harry wondered if the war was going to turn them all into alcoholics.

"Harry." Said Dumbledore gravely. "I would like to apologize, my boy. It's hard for me to imagine the world from which you've come, but I should have known that you wouldn't kill without good reason." Harry nodded, grateful for the admission. McGonagall gave him a nod, raising her glass slightly in his direction. He nodded back, a warm feeling in his chest that had nothing to do with the Fire-whiskey.

"I'm glad." he stated plainly, taking a seat beside them. There were four chairs around a small table which had the bottle of wine on it. "Wine, Harry, Severus?" asked Dumbledore, wand at the ready to conjure more glasses. Both shook their heads, feeling quite satisfied with their Fire-whiskey.

"What's next?" asked McGonagall, half curious and half dreading the answer. Harry sighed. "It's been a long, _long_ day. I think apprehending Peter Pettigrew is the next and last thing we should do."

He saw nods all around. "Where is he?" asked Snape. Harry grimaced, as he anticipated the reaction his next revelation was going to get. "He's in his animagus form, a rat. Good fit, all things considered."

Professor McGonagall looked quite impressed. "Pettigrew mastered the Animagus transformation?" she asked in surprise. "I didn't think he had the talent for it." Harry shrugged. "Perhaps he didn't but being tutored by my father probably had something to do with it." She gasped at that. "Your father was also an Animagus?!" she asked. Harry watched Snape suppress his usual automatic sneer that appeared whenever James Potter was discussed. He didn't hold it against the man. It must have been difficult for him to get over the hatred he carried for so much of his adult life. He did appreciate the man holding his tongue though.

Harry scratched his chin, deciding to give them a small history lesson on the Marauders. "My father, Pettigrew, and Sirius Black all mastered the transformation in their fifth year." There were looks of shock from all three of them at that news. "They did it so that they could accompany Remus Lupin when he transformed into a werewolf. They couldn't get infected while in their animal forms." He saw them all still trying to grasp the fact that three O.W.L level students had accomplished one of the most difficult transfigurations known to the magical world. He knew exactly why they were so incredulous.

"Wizards have believed that it is a very difficult transfiguration and a very rare skill, because they've that is what they've always been told, for generations. The truth is that the main difficulty is in discovering your innate form. The transformation itself can be worked on with practice. A _lot_ of practice. Most don't try because they've been told it's rare. Of course some _don't_ have the ability at all, but most do, if they try hard enough." he shrugged. McGonagall looked immensely pensive about what he had said. It stood to reason that it was not as rare an ability as they had believed if three boys sharing a dorm room all had it. She would have to rethink the way she approached it in her teaching. Of course, she had been told the same by Dumbledore, who she had trusted implicitly. She looked askance at Harry as he gave a small snort. "It's probably not that rare at all. There are seven Animagi registered with the Ministry this century, but I know of at least eight Animagi who _aren't_ registered. And those are just the ones I _know_ of." he said dryly, conjuring a glass of water for himself.

McGonagall couldn't help her professional curiosity. "Are you an Animagus?" Harry simply smiled at her over the brim of his glass, not affirming nor denying that. Snape looked distinctly uncomfortable at the topic. Harry knew it was because he was an Animagus as well. His form was a jet black owl. Harry had always assumed that if the man had a form it would be a bat, but he was an owl, known for their wisdom and their stealth. He had never revealed his form to anyone, but it had been inevitable when they had needed to scout a Death Eater house and had no other way. After swearing Harry and Remus to secrecy, Snape had transformed and scouted out the place. Not even Voldemort or Dumbledore knew of his ability. Harry wasn't going to say anything. He had of course included Snape in the eight Animagi he knew who hadn't registered.

Sensing that she wasn't going to get an answer, she then asked about the Marauder's forms. "You already know that Pettigrew is a rat. My father was a majestic stag." he said, ignoring the snort that escaped Snape, as well as the warning look that Dumbledore shot him. The by-play was quite amusing. "Sirius could become a huge black dog, which looked a lot like a Grim. Scared the magic out of Trelawney, I can tell you." He saw McGonagall's lips twitch a little at that. He knew that she had only disdain for the subject of divination, a sentiment he heartily shared. He knew that prophecies were in fact real, but the gift was given to a select few, and Sybill Trelawney definitely didn't qualify as a seer. She had her moments of course, but the gift was watered down when compared to her ancestors.

"Where is Pettigrew hiding in his rat form, Harry?" asked Dumbledore. "I'm sure there are several hundred rats in a castle as large and as old as Hogwarts. How are we going to locate him?" 

Harry swallowed, knowing that they were not going to take this well. "Pettigrew framed Sirius, and then ran into the sewers. He knew that he'd have to keep abreast of the wizarding world, and so found a family with children and befriended one of them. He then lived as their pet rat." He grimaced. The thought was still disturbing. Although it had been years, he couldn't forget that he himself had lived in a dorm with Pettigrew for almost three years. "He was found by Percy Weasley, and is now posing as the pet rat of one Ronald Weasley." said Harry regretfully.

McGonagall jumped to her feet. "D'you mean tae tell me that there's a scruffy criminal in a room full of eleven year old boys?" she half shouted, her face aghast and her Scottish accent becoming pronounced in her agitation. Harry nodded regretfully, knowing that her ire was roused when there was any danger to her "lion cubs" whether real or imagined. This was definitely real.

She turned without a word and started heading out of the office, her wand was in her hand and she had an almost military precision in the way she walked. The other three simply followed her. Harry was suppressing a grin, as they followed the quick pace she set. He would not like to be Pettigrew right now. As they neared the portrait of The Fat Lady, Harry found his grin fading. He lagged to the back of the quartet as they got closer. He wasn't ready to see Ron and Hermione and Neville and well...any of the people he had known in the previous timeline. It was beyond strange that he was now nine years older than them. The friendship and memories he had didn't exist to them. They didn't know him. They did not know the trials and tribulations that they had all faced together. They were not the people who had become more than friends to him – they had become a family.

He felt his heart ache as that knowledge sank it. It was going to be extremely difficult to see them around the castle, but he also knew that he especially could not bear to see Ron's devastation when he found out that his "new" pet rat was actually a portly, balding old Death Eater. They stopped in front of the Fat Lady, who was snoozing. Harry spoke quietly from the rear of the group. "Minerva, I would suggest entering the dorm quietly, stunning the rat and leaving without their knowledge. Ron is terribly attached to that rat. I don't know if he already is, but he was by third year, when we found out. It would be best if he just thought that "Scabbers" ran away." She nodded, it was probably for the best that the boy was not traumatized with the knowledge that he had been sharing a bed with a grown middle-aged man.

McGonagall cleared her throat, waking up the snoozing Fat Lady. "Who – Oh, Hello Professors." she said with a small curtsey as she realized who her visitors were. "Caput Draconis." said McGonagall curtly, startling the portrait as she swung open for them. She was usually much more polite than this. They traipsed through the portrait hole. "He sleeps to the left of Ron's pillow. Ron's is the second bed from the right," Harry informed her softly, remembering nights of staring out at the moon, with only Ron's snores for company. With a decisive nod, she marched up the stairs to the boys dormitory. Harry looked around, as waves of nostalgia crashed over him. So many memories had been made in this room. The homework they'd done, the pranks they had played, the budding romances that had been born and had died in this room. They waited in tense silence for about five minutes, before McGonagall came back down the stairs, a limp rat dangling in her hands by its tail. She had a look of absolute loathing on her face. Wordlessly, they all exited the Gryffindor common room, in their excitement ignoring the "Good Night." thrown at their backs by the Fat Lady.

Back in Dumbledore's office, they placed the rat into a cage which the Headmaster charmed to be unbreakable. There was no way for the rat to transform or escape, even if he managed to break out of a powerful stunner by an irate McGonagall.

"What are we going to do with him?" asked Dumbledore. Harry shrugged. He knew that as of this point in the timeline, Wormtail didn't know anything that he didn't. He just wanted to use him to get Sirius out of Azkaban. "He has no information of value." He informed the rest of them. "His main value is in getting Sirius exonerated and released from that hellhole." He saw a guilty look on Dumbledore's face. He supposed the man felt guilty because he was the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot and should have ensured that Sirius had been given a trial, and that every letter of the law had been obeyed. He had failed the man, and condemned him to eleven years of hell.

"We know that the Wizengamot is going to summon me for a hearing soon. Perhaps I can bring up Sirius' lack of trial once someone introduces _Regulus'_ reappearance in court. A formal hearing is not a trial, and I think I should be able to raise the topic and shift them off questioning the whereabouts of Harry Potter for a while. However it will only stall them. There is no way the Minister will relinquish his chance to be seen as the savior of the "savior"" he said with a small apologetic glance in Harry's direction. Harry waved the unspoken apology away. He knew that the Headmaster wasn't calling him the savior but merely pointing out how Fudge would spin his interest in Harry Potter.

"So now we wait for the Wizengamot?" asked Harry, looking around at the other three. He got nods from all three. There was nothing more they could do at the moment. He knew that they would have to figure out a way to explain how exactly they had known that Peter Pettigrew was an Animagus. Harry decided that he would sleep on it, and they could decide what was to be done about that the next day. The summons were sure to come tomorrow for Dumbledore.

"Well then, I think I shall retire, gentlemen." announced McGonagall, rising from her chair. "Long day of classes tomorrow, and I think we should all get some rest. Good night." They bid her goodnight, and she walked out of the office. Snape rose as well. "I shall retire as well, Albus, Harry." With a nod in their direction, he walked out as well.

Harry and Dumbledore looked at each other for a moment. "It has been quite a long day, my boy." he murmured quietly, pouring himself another glass of wine. Harry declined when he held out the bottle in offering. "It's been a long _life,_ Albus." he said bitterly, rubbing his eyes. He was absolutely exhausted, and absolutely famished. Hoping that his call would be heeded, he tentatively spoke out. "Groffy." The house-elf appeared, and looked at Dumbledore. "Should Groffy be listening to the call of the Black wizard, Mister Dumblydore sir?" he asked. Dumbledore simply nodded as he took a sip of his wine.

"Groffy please get me some soup, and some bread. I'm starving." said Harry. Groffy nodded his head enthusiastically and then flashed away. Minutes later a bowl of cream of Pumpkin soup appeared, with a side of freshly baked, crusty bread. Harry dug in, with the gusto of a man who hadn't eaten in days.

Dumbledore simply sipped on his wine as Harry wolfed down his food. Stomach satisfied, Harry sat back with a contented sigh. Dumbledore smiled warmly at the young man. "Groffy." he called out softly. "Please prepare one of the guest quarter's for Mr. Black here." he said. Groffy gave a small bow and popped away.

"I would like for you to join us at the Head table in the Great Hall tomorrow, Harry. I will not introduce you to the students yet but I want them to get used to seeing you around the school. Assuming that the Ministry accepts your claim of who you are, I think you'll be around the castle for much of your time?" he changed his tone into a question at the last moment, perhaps remembering that he could not push the man around at all. Harry nodded pensively. "I suppose so, Albus. I will need to leave from time to time to deal with the other Horcruxes, assuming they're in the same places as in the last timeline, but mostly yes, I will be in the school." he stopped himself from adding that he had nowhere else to go and that the school was home. He had the feeling the Headmaster knew that though. Groffy reappeared. "Black sirs room is ready, Headmaster." Harry rose, and held his hand out to Dumbledore. Dumbledore grasped it around his forearm earnestly. "Thank you, Harry." he said sincerely. "Thank you." Harry nodded, his throat tight. He followed Groffy out of the room, and was looking forward to a few hours of sleep before they began their fight against the darkness again on the morrow.


	11. Chapter 11

Harry woke up early the next morning. The war had inculcated some habits in him that were hard to break. Even though he would have like to have a bit of a lie-in, his body clock saw him opening his eyes at 6 a.m, which was already late by his usual standards. Stretching thoroughly, he put on his clothes again. He knew he'd have to go to Diagon Alley some time soon, to get himself some new clothes. Cleaning charms only helped a little, and wore out the fabric pretty quickly. He had only the clothes on his back and his chest armor. He no longer had need of spectacles, having undergone the magical equivalent of laser surgery. It had been Hermione who had worked with the healers in , to replicate the effects of the laser using magic. It had been hailed as a great advancement in magical optometry. Of course, given the political climate, it wasn't as celebrated as it should have been.

Aside from his attire, the only thing that he had with him was his wand.

His wand was not the eleven inch Holly and Phoenix feather core beauty that he had bought from Ollivander. That wand had been broken in a skirmish with Lucius Malfoy in the last timeline. Harry had overcome him at last after a vicious duel, using the sword to decapitate him much the same way as he had done to Quirrell.

It was a jet-black thirteen inch Ebony wand with the tail hair of a magnificent black thestral as the core.

It had been crafted by a descendant of James Steward, one of the founders of Illvermony School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Matthew Steward had been one of the foremost wandmakers in the US. He had been married to one of the American Aurors who had volunteered to help during the final months of the war. He had crafted this wand for Harry at Hogwarts, after his Holly wand had been destroyed. He claimed that generations of his family had studied wandlore, with secrets being passed down from father to son.

They had gone into the Forbidden Forest together, and had spent almost three days trying to find a tree from which to craft the wand. They had finally come across an ancient Ebony, from whose twisted and gnarled branches the had removed the wood they needed, careful to appease the bowtruckles that had made it home with a nice offering of wood lice. They had begun their discussion about what to use as a core as they walked back, and were both stunned when a regal looking black thestral stallion had walked into the clearing, and had bowed to Harry. Matthew said that in all his years of research and studies of generations of work, he had only once come across an example of a living creature offering a wand core. It had been a Horned Serpent that had offered a core to his great-great-grandmother, Isolt Sayre.

Harry had been fascinated by the story, and had spent hours discussing Illvermony and the legends that surrounded it with Matthew. In the course of their discussion, he discovered that Matthew was also a descendant of Salazar Slytherin, and was actually related to Voldemort through the Gaunt family. He smiled a little as he recalled Matthew's horror-struck face when he had made the connection. It was not something that he wanted everybody to know about.

This wand suited Harry much better than his Holly wand, as it had been attuned to his magic through a blood ritual during it's crafting. It could not be used by anyone else. It was also extremely hard for people to reverse spells that he cast with this wand. He had a feeling that only Dumbledore would be able to do it with ease.

He donned his clothes and re-cast the glamour charm that had faded in the night. He placed his wand into the holster that was concealed along his forearm, and went out to begin his usual exercise routine. A few laps around the lake, and several hundred push-ups, sit-ups and chin-ups on a conjured bar later, he walked back to his quarters feeling refreshed. He took a long hot shower and _scourgified_ his clothes, before heading to the Great Hall for breakfast. He was quite early, but he preferred to be seated when the students came in, instead of generating the usual whispers and speculation.

The enchanted ceiling showed that it was going to be a glorious, clear day. They were quite uncommon in Scotland, so he appreciated the clear blue sky as he walked to the Head table. Dumbledore was already in his golden chair, and Severus Snape was also seated. They had both not yet started their breakfast. Harry nodded at the two of them, and took the chair to Dumbledore's left, knowing that McGonagall usually sat at his right hand.

"Good Morning, Regulus." said Albus, as he took his seat. "I trust you slept well?" Regulus shrugged. "After so many years of war, a peaceful night of sleep was a gift." He smiled. A few early rising students made their way into the Great Hall, sitting at their respective house tables. The staff began walking in as well, many of them talking to their colleagues about their summers. Regulus recognized Professors Vector and Babbage, talking animatedly as they took their seats at the Head table. Professor McGonagall gave a nod in their direction as she settled herself into her customary seat on the other side of Dumbledore. Flitwick and Sprout walked in together, apparently in the midst of sharing an amusing story. Regulus smiled at the cheerful Charms Master. He knew that the man was a deadly duelist, and could hold his own against some of the most powerful wizards out there. He had fought valiantly with the Order of the Phoenix in the last timeline, though he had only joined their ranks at the end.

Soon the chatter of hundreds of students filled the Great Hall. Regulus helped himself to eggs and kippers and some bread. By the end of the war food was difficult to come by thanks to Voldemort and his cohorts destroying shops and farms alike. They had had to get their food from muggles, and logistics had been a nightmare. Now he looked around at the breakfast tables, laden with the hearty English and Scottish fare. Students were chatting with their friends, catching up over the summer, while the new students were talking to each other, no doubt trying to find common ground.

The Weasley twins were regaling the Gryffindor table with some story or the other, that had everyone laughing, much to Percy's chagrin. He probably expected his brothers to behave with more decorum. Regulus smiled softly as he watched his erstwhile friends. Over at the Slytherin table, Draco was holding court over the first year students. No doubt trying to impress them with the Malfoy wealth and influence. Regulus was determined to keep him away from the dark this time around. He had been a reluctant Death Eater, and by the end, he and Narcissa had gone into hiding. They were never found, even after the end of the war. Regulus had a feeling that they had moved to France, to live with the French branch of the Malfoy family from which their was an offshoot.

The rustle of wings disturbed him from his ruminations. Hundreds of owls flew into the Great Hall, and began searching for the recipients of their messages and packages. Several of the staff received their copies of the Daily Prophet, and Regulus couldn't wait to see what had been written about the events of yesterday. A magnificent looking barn owl flew to Dumbledore and stuck out it's leg. It was an official looking letter on purple parchment that bore the seal of both the Ministry as well as the Wizengamot. It was probably the summons. Another owl flew up to Dumbledore, with a small envelope that had "Regulus Black" written on it. Dumbledore and Regulus exchanged a glance with raised eyebrows.

Snape had finished reading the front page, and held it over to Regulus with a blank look on his face. Regulus quickly scanned the headlines.

 **YOU-KNOW-WHO POSSESES PROFESSOR AT HOGWARTS!**

 **BOY-WHO-LIVED SAID TO BE WITH GUARDIAN**

 **REGULUS BLACK, ALIVE?**

He took a moment to read the articles under them, giving them a once over since he knew everything that was sure to be there. He still wanted to check the slant of the articles.

 **YOU-KNOW-WHO POSSESES PROFESSOR AT HOGWARTS!**

 _Rita Skeeter_

 _It came as a shock yesterday, when Headmaster Dumbledore summoned the Head of the Department of_

 _of Magical Law Enforcement, Amelia Bones, 65, as well as Yours Truly (Rita Skeeter, 31), to accompany him to apprehend Professor Quinerus Quirrell, on the suspicion of him being possessed._

 _This reporter is unsure of what tipped the Headmaster and his staff off about the possibility of the possession. Upon confronting the erstwhile defense professor, a duel broke out with the Headmaster, Professor McGonagall, Madam Bones, and a man who claims to be Regulus Black (See next article) on one side, against Quinerus Quirrell, the Possessed Professor. It was an epic duel, with amazing magic being cast by both sides. Quirrell was eventually defeated, and beheaded by the man who claims to be Black. Shortly before his defeat, it was revealed that he was possessed by the spirit of none other that You-Know-Who, who although defeated and banished, is clearly alive in some spirit form. His wraith escaped the school, with the blood-chilling cry of "I shall return!"_

 _This reporter humbly asks the Ministry for a statement, and an assurance that He-who-must-not-be-named will NOT come back. We turn towards our Ministry for security, after the troubling events of last night._

 _For a spell-by-spell account of the duel, turn to page 3_

 _For information on You-Know-Who, turn to page 4_

Regulus nodded slowly while reading the article. It was succinct and gave most of the information they wanted it to. He was unsure what they were going to write about him though, both as Harry and as Regulus. He continued reading

 **BOY-WHO-LIVED SAID TO BE WITH GUARDIAN**

 _David McGuff_

 _The Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge stopped by at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry last evening, to get to the bottom of rumors that Harry Potter, the Boy-who-lived had disappeared from the Great Hall during the Welcome feast. He was accompanied by Madam Augusta Longbottom and Mr. Lucius Malfoy of the school Board of Governors, as well as Madam Griselda Marchbanks, the Head of the Department of Magical Education._

 _A man who claims to be Regulus Black, who is believed to be deceased, has said that he was charged by convicted felon Sirius Black, to ensure the safety of Harry Potter. Sirius Black was named the boy's Godfather by the late James Potter, who was supported in this move by his late wife, Lily Potter. Questions have been raised as to the veracity of this man's identity, as well as the claim that Sirius Black was looking out for his Godson, when he was the one who betrayed the Potters to You-Know-who._

 _Unsatisfied with the answers provided by the Headmaster, the Minister has decided to get the Wizengamot together and conduct a hearing where Albus Dumbledore will be questioned on his running of the school, the disappearance of Harry Potter, as well as the apparently resurrected Regulus Black. The hearing is scheduled for later this afternoon, with the majority of the Wizengamot to be in attendance. As Dumbledore, the Chief Warlock is to be questioned, it has been decided that Dexter Greengrass shall preside as Chief Warlock over the hearing. We shall update our reader's as soon as possible, with a special evening edition of the Daily Prophet._

 _For more information on Sirius Black, turn to page 5_

 _For more information on Regulus Black turn to page 6_

 _For more information on the Wizengamot members, turn to page 7_

Regulus was quite surprised at the accurate reporting. He supposed that Skeeter had got a huge shock and the inner journalist was actually out to get answers for once, instead of fabricating them herself. It was a pleasant change from her usual style of reporting. Then he checked the byline, and realized that it was written by some other reporter that he had never heard of. He turned in trepidation to the article on Regulus Black.

 **REGULUS BLACK, ALIVE?**

 _Rita Skeeter_

 _In a surprising twist of events, a man appeared at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry during the welcome feast. The man has claimed to be Regulus Black._

 _Regulus Black was suspected of being a Death Eater, and was rumored to have been killed by the Dark Lord himself. The man has claimed to have been in hiding for the last thirteen years, and has resurfaced to ensure the safety of his brother's Godson, Harry Potter._

 _Several questions have been raised by these outrageous claims. Why would Sirius Black, the man known to have betrayed the Potters to the Dark Lord, be looking out for the safety of their son?_

" _Regulus Black" has claimed that he had no knowledge of the whereabouts of Harry Potter, until Potter rejoined the wizarding world when he accepted his place at Hogwarts for this term. Harry Potter has disappeared, apparently into the custody of this man. The Wizengamot shall be questioning Headmaster Dumbledore about the same._

 _Old photographs of Regulus Black show that this man does indeed bear striking resemblance to the secondary heir to the House of Black. Perhaps the DMLE will look into this matter and either verify or refute his claims with evidence. We shall update our readers in the Evening edition._

Regulus exhaled a breath he didn't know that he was holding. All in all it wasn't as bad as it could have been. He was surprised that he wasn't being summoned before the Wizengamot himself to answer questions. He knew that his glamour charm would not hold up against intense scrutiny. His cover story was thin as well.

He saw that Dumbledore was also done reading the paper, and was now turning to the missive from the Ministry. He scanned it, and passed it to Regulus.

 _Albus Brian Percival Wulfric Dumbledore_

 _Supreme Mugwump of the ICW, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

 _You are hereby summoned to the Ministry of Magic, to answer questions about the whereabouts of Harry James Potter, as well as the appearance of "Regulus Black." As you have vouched for the man, please provide the Ministry and the Wizengamot with proof of these claims._

 _Furthermore, we request the presence of the man claiming to be Regulus Black, so that the veracity of these claims can be ascertained. Your presence is requested at Courtroom Ten at Three PM._

 _Failure to comply with this summons shall be seen as a criminal act, and punitive measures shall be taken by the DMLE._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Dexter Greengrass_

 _Acting Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot._

"Short and to the point." Said Regulus dryly, handing the letter back to Dumbledore. The other letter was addressed to him, and so Dumbledore handed it over, with a questioning glance.

 _Mr. Black,_

 _For the time being, let us assume that I believe that you are indeed Regulus Black. After asking around among some of the top Aurors, Hitwizards as well as Unspeakables, I accept that Quirrell would have died as soon as the spirit possessing him was banished. I will not seek to press charges against you for your acts yesterday. While I disagree with your methods, I must accept their efficiency. You are being summoned by the Wizengamot to explain yourself, I hope you have your answers ready. Curiously, the owl that I addressed to Regulus Black returned to me, in much the same manner as owls do when a letter is sent to someone who is deceased. I have sent this to Albus Dumbledore, in full confidence that it will reach you. Did I mention that the owl's behavior was curious?_

 _Looking forward to learning more,_

 _Amelia Bones_

 _Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement_

He handed the letter to Dumbledore with a wry smile. "Doesn't miss a trick, Madam Bones. I must admit that I didn't even think about owl post." He scratched his chin. "Looks like the two of us are going to London this afternoon, Albus." The Headmaster nodded. He had a few announcements to make before they could go to his office and plan their strategy for the hearing.

McGonagall had finished her breakfast, and was about to go around to the Gryffindor table to hand out the timetables when she was stopped by Professor Dumbledore. "A short announcement first, Minerva." She nodded and retook her seat. Noticing Professor Dumbledore standing at the podium, the Great Hall slowly fell silent, as the prefects asked their peers to pay attention to the Headmaster. The older students had been excitedly talking about the newspapers, and all the surprising information revealed. They now looked hopefully at the Headmaster, who could perhaps answer some of the many questions they all had.

"Good morning students, and once again, welcome back to Hogwarts!" he beamed at them. He truly loved his students. "First off, let me assure you all that Harry Potter is safe, and is currently with his guardian, Regulus Black" He gestured towards Regulus, ignoring the whispers that broke out among the students. Most of them had grown up hearing tales of how the baby boy had defeated the darkest wizard of modern times, and had been looking forward to seeing him around the school. "Harry may or may not join us for this term, pending discussions with his guardian and the Ministry of Magic. I would also like to put your minds at ease about Regulus Black, who appeared here during the Welcome Feast.

He shall pose no danger to anyone in the castle, and will soon be discussing his situation with the Ministry."

He told them enough to speculate, but nothing that actually meant anything. "You'll probably see him around the castle, and will treat our guest with respect and do our school proud." he smiled, to take away from the severity of his warning. He knew that most of his students were exceptionally well-behaved, and even the pranksters like the twins knew not to cross too many lines. The noise level was rising, so he raised his arms. "Due to an act of aggression by Voldemort, Professor Quirrell was killed during a confrontation with myself and other persons." he paused, to allow them to gasp and get over his use of the name before dropping his next bombshell. "I shall be taking over the duties of the DADA Professor until a more permanent replacement can be found."

There were excited whispers around the room, as they realized that they were going to be taught by Albus Dumbledore, who was renowned as one of the most powerful and capable wizards alive today. They all felt privileged that he would be teaching them one of their core subjects. "I hope you all have a wonderful first day, and a learning filled year ahead." He smiled, gesturing to the Heads of houses to distribute the timetables.

"My office in half an hour." He said, looking meaningfully at Professors Snape and McGonagall as they headed towards their house tables. They both gave imperceptible nods. Gesturing for Regulus to come with him, the Headmaster swept out of the Great Hall before the exodus to the first classes of the day began.


	12. Chapter 12

Regulus sat in Dumbledore's office, his foot tapping. He was deep in thought. They were in a little bit of a fix. His cover story was way too thin to actually withstand intensive interrogation. A simple reveal charm might not get rid of his glamour, given that it had been cast using his blood locked wand. However it could be dispelled, it just wouldn't be easy. Across the desk from him, Albus Dumbledore was also lost in thought. His chin was resting in his hands, as he though about what the possible questions were going to be.

"Harry," he said, breaking away from the alias as it was just the two of them. Before he could continue, they were interrupted by one of the portraits on the wall. "Dumbledore, I have something to say."

Dumbledore and Harry both looked up at the portrait of Phineas Nigellus Black, the least popular Headmaster that Hogwarts had ever had. Harry had wondered how the irate and usually snide man had kept quiet throughout their plan to impersonate his descendant. "I have heard your plans, and I greatly support your idea to exonerate my great grandson Sirius. It is an appalling miscarriage of justice that my innocent descendant rots in Azkaban. This would have be unthinkable in my time! For it to happen to a Black, that is." Harry rolled his eyes. He knew that most Blacks had been pureblood fanatics, and almost as consumed with their influence as the Malfoys. He tuned back in to what the portrait was saying.

"I was initially surprised that anyone from the light would _want_ to impersonate Regulus, given him siding with the Dark Lord." Harry bowed his head in acknowledgment. Regulus had turned out to be an unsung hero in the war against evil. "I will aid you in every way possible. Even as far as telling you family secrets that only a Black would know. I don't know too many, given that I am a portrait, but I can call for our family house elf, as I have a portrait in my old house in London."

"Kreacher!" exclaimed Harry, wondering how he hadn't thought of the house-elf himself. With sharp crack that made both Dumbledore and Harry rear back in their seats, the filthy house-elf appeared. Harry's wand had shot into his hand, in a purely reflexive action.

"Somebody calls Kreacher?" said the house-elf, looking curiously at Harry. He started mumbling to himself, as was his wont. "This person is looking like a Black, yet Kreacher does not know who he is." he looked speculatively at Harry. "Yet Kreacher feels the bond of a master. Kreacher is not knowing what is happening." Harry almost laughed with relief. "Merlin bless Sirius!" He exclaimed, slapping his palm on his thigh. "He made me his heir in the last time line and apparently it has carried through here!" Harry didn't know why he was surprised. The hat had after all acknowledged him as both the Gryffindor heir as well as Slytherin's heir by conquest. It was only logical that him being named heir by Sirius would also carry forward. Of course, in the original timeline he was Lord Black, since Sirius had passed on. Here it was a little more complicated. He was the primary heir, since Sirius was still alive. Then again, since Sirius had never claimed his Lordship in this timeline, Harry was probably the secondary heir, after Sirius himself. This was perfect. Since Sirius had fathered no children, they could explain that Regulus was the secondary heir to the Lordship.

"Kreacher," said Harry, planning to bend the truth a little bit to further their cause. "I knew your master Regulus. He left a locket in your care, asking you to destroy it." Kreacher began to wring his hands and weep softly. Huge tears flowed down his face, which was drawn into an ugly rictus. "Kreacher has failed good Master Regulus." He started banging his head on the desk in front of him. Disgusted by the compelling magic that forced this punitive behavior, Harry raised his voice. "Kreacher stop punishing yourself!" The house-elf stopped immediately, and looked at Harry in misery. "Who are you?!" he wailed, "Why does Kreacher have to obey you?! You is not a Black, you is not having the Black bloodline, yet there is something!" Deciding to spare the distraught elf, Harry spoke kindly. "Kreacher, bring me the locket. I will help you destroy it so that Master Regulus did not die for no reason." Kreacher looked at him in shock, before disappearing with a crack.

Dumbledore was watching the interaction, interested. "That's the Black elf?" Harry nodded. "Apparently he can feel the bond of me being Sirius' heir. I think he named me as his heir before he even went to prison. It was probably active before I even met Sirius in the previous timeline, I just didn't know of it's existence, until his death. This helps us a lot, Albus." Albus nodded, still unsure as to how it helped them. Harry let him know.

"The locket is the property of one Salazar Slytherin, handed down through the generations in the Gaunt family." he waited to see if the Headmaster made the connection. Realizing that he hadn't, he offered an explanation. "The Gaunts are descended from Salazar Slytherin. The last of their line is one Tom Marlvolo Riddle, named for his grandfather, Marlvolo Gaunt." Dumbledore's confusion cleared up.

"It's a Horcrux?" He asked in delight. They had literally had this one thrown into their laps. Harry nodded, using his wand to summon the sword of Gryffindor from his quarters. He wondered what anyone who was waling the hallways thought about a sword flying towards the Headmaster's office. He opened the door, and caught the sword as it came into the office. "I have work for you, old friend." he whispered, so that Dumbledore couldn't hear.

With a crack, Kreacher returned with the locket. At the same time, Professors Snape and McGonagall walked into the office. "That explains the sword." Said Snape dryly, nodding his head in Harry's direction. Harry smiled at the two of them. "Your arrival is most propitious. We've just been hand-delivered a piece of Voldemort's soul." He frowned a little at the McGonagall's wince at the name. 

"Minnie, a wise man once told me that fear of a name increases fear of a thing itself" He told her, with a meaningful look at Albus. His eyes twinkling like mad, Dumbledore gave a small bow. "I sometimes amaze myself with my wisdom." Chortling a little at the mans theatrics, Harry gestured for them to go on Dumbledore's side of the desk. "Let's get this done." he said, as he lay the locket on the floor in front of him and held the sword at ready. Severus drew his wand, followed quickly by McGonagall and Dumbledore. Harry nodded in appreciation. Better safe than sorry.

" _Open.."_ The harsh hissing of parseltongue tore out of his throat, startling McGonagall and Snape. Dumbledore's expression remained passive and curious as he watched the proceedings. A miniature Sirius stood inside the locket. "Do you think you can save me this time? I hope you know -" It was cut off abruptly. Harry knew what to expect. The Horcrux fed on the inner fears and insecurities of the person closes to it. He knew that he could not afford to let it get into his head. Harry had a will of steel and was completely sure of himself. He stabbed the sword into the center of the locket with no hesitation. With the now usual shriek, black smoke began flowing out of it, collecting into a facsimile of Voldemort's face. It screamed in rage, and headed towards Harry. He conjured the same silver shield he had before, and _pushed_ the soul fragment out of the window. He stood as it dissipated into nothing. "Another one bites the dust." He whispered to himself, amused at the muggle lyrics that had come unbidden into his head.

He turned around to see Snape and McGonagall gaping at him. "You-You're a parselmouth!" stuttered McGonagall, her hand coming up to cover her mouth. He was quite used to this reaction and paid it no heed. Wizarding Britain had always looked upon people who were different with fear. He knew it would take generations for them to change their ways. "Yes, I am." He offered no explanation.

Kreacher was looking at Harry with awe. With a deep bow he said "Master is a powerful and wise wizard. Kreacher will be proud to serve him." Harry gave a small bow back, much to the humans surprise and to Kreacher's shock. "You do me great honor." he said seriously. "I need your help Kreacher, please stay while we talk." He gestured the elf towards the four chairs in the corner, knowing that he would not sit unless he was commanded to. Harry had never felt comfortable commanding an elf to do anything, besides to stop punishing themselves.

Harry sat down in the corner with the four chairs, which was quickly becoming the place they sat to brainstorm and formulate their strategies. He was joined by the other three, with Kreacher standing near them.

"Albus, we need to figure out what you're going to tell the Minister and the Wizengamot." The other three nodded. That was their immediate concern. McGonagall had another concern though. "I've placed prefects in charge of my class, but I really feel I should be getting back, Albus." Snape nodded his agreement with her. His potions students had been told to revise the theory behind the potion of the day. There was no way he was going to allow them to brew without him in the room. Dumbledore inclined his head in acquiescence. "You may return to your duties, I think Harry and myself can chalk out a plan by ourselves." The two nodded and made their way out of the office.

"Harry, I have some questions about how you came to be a parselmouth." Said Dumbledore quietly, as soon as the door closed. Harry sighed. He did not want to get into this right now. "I will sit down and explain everything to you Albus, once we've dealt with the Ministry. What do you think they're most likely to do to try and uncover my identity? Veritaserum?" he asked. Dumbledore looked a little put out at being fobbed off, but he decided to let it go and move on with their plans.

"As you yourself pointed out, they'll need a majority vote from the Wizengamot to do that." He said, frowning thoughtfully. Harry nodded but felt compelled to point out "They need to first believe that I am indeed Regulus Black, secondary heir to the house of Black, for me to gain that protection." Dumbledore nodded, his frown deepening. Kreacher meanwhile was looking back and forth between the two. "Master wants to pretend to be Regulus Black?" He asked, with his eyes goggling. "Why?"

Harry sighed. He really didn't have the time or inclination to explain the entire situation to Kreacher. "It's important, that's why." he said a little shortly, not really upset, but not wanting to explain either. Kreacher looked like he was thinking hard about something.

"There is a way..." he said, before trailing off. "But it involves blood magic." Harry knew that blood magic had been banned by the Ministry of Magic more than fifty years ago, with the incorrect belief that all blood magic was dark. Harry knew of at least two rituals that weren't dark. One was the bonding of his wand to his core, and the other was the magic his mother had done to ensure that he survived. In the original timeline, he had spent a long time trying to figure out how his mother had protected him. It had started from an innocent observation after they left a crime scene. The mother who had been attacked had sacrificed herself for her daughter, but there had been no protection for the child. Then when they had sat and thought about it, they came to the conclusion that Lily could not have been the only mother in history who had sacrificed herself for her child. Intense research had uncovered a blood ritual, which needed her to die by _choice._ Voldemort had offered her that choice, thanks to Snape, and she had chosen to die anyway, activating the blood wards. It was how he had survived.

"There is a special room in the Black house, Master. I am not be able to speak of it to anyone else. I cannot even speak about it in front of the other sir." Harry shot the Headmaster an apologetic glance, before erecting his usual privacy spell. "He cannot hear or see us now, Kreacher. Tell me about the room." Kreacher looked nervous, "In the basement of Grimauld Place, there is a ritual room that only the Master and his heirs can enter. Inside, there are vials of blood from many Blacks throughout history. Master can use this to bind himself to the family line. Kreacher only knows this because Master Regulus would talk about it when giving Kreacher language lessons. Master wanted Kreacher to speak proper so that he could have someone to talk to." He was tearing up again at the mention of Regulus.

Harry wondered at the depths of the younger Black's loneliness, that he would want to converse with his house-elf. It was especially surprising given the prejudice he was most likely brought up with. Still, it explained how the elf had a much better grasp of grammar and diction than most elves he had ever met. "Thank you, Kreacher. I will consider what you have told me. You may return to Grimauld Place. I shall summon you if I need to, but I will most likely drop by the house. In the next hour or so. Is the Floo address still "Number Twelve, Grimauld Place?" Kreacher looked surprised at him saying "still" but simply nodded, and gave a small bow, as Harry dissipated his spell. He vanished with a crack.

"There is a way." Harry informed Dumbledore. "I don't know how long it will take though, and it may require a potion to be brewed." He cast a quick _tempus._ It was Ten Fifteen in the morning. "I think I should go and try this." Harry found himself unable to speak about the ritual room, or it's contents to the Headmaster. It was some powerful magic if it could render him unable to convey the secret to another person. Then again the Blacks had always known to be magically gifted and highly intelligent individuals. "I can't seem to speak of it. I shall go to London, to the Black house and then return here immediately if it is succesful, or I shall meet you directly at Courtroom Ten if it gets too late." Dumbledore nodded. "I shall make a list of the possible questions they are likely to ask me, and formulate my answers to them." Nodding at each other, Harry stepped up the the fireplace, but was stopped by Dumbledore. "Harry, please be careful. The Blacks were both powerful and also a family with dark leanings. Blood magic can be tricky and-" Harry cut him off, knowing the usual spiel people gave about blood magic. "I'll be careful, Albus. See you soon." He ignored the sigh from the old man and called out "Number Twelve, Grimauld Place" He disappeared in a whoosh of green flames.

Harry arrived in the parlour of Number Twelve, and looked around with a grimace. Apparently, Kreacher had left the Headmaster's office and immediately cleaned the parlor up. It looked less grimy and dusty than it had when Harry had first seen it in the original timeline.

"Master has arrived." Said Kreacher with a bow. Harry was taken aback by the clear changes in the elf's attire. His pillowcase was now spotlessly clean, and he had cleaned himself up as well. Harry nodded in his direction.

"Kreacher, lead me to the ritual room." Kreacher looked slightly uncertain at this. "I know it is in the basement, but I do not know exactly where, young Master." Said the elf regretfully. Harry simply nodded. He walked through the kitchen, pushing down his pang of memories as he walked through the room. There were so many. From the only Christmas he had spent with Sirius, to Tonks making different faces for their entertainment, learning about the prophecy being hidden in the DoM. There were myriad memories that could have flooded his mind and left him weak with nostalgia. He ruthlessly shut them down, and made his way into the basement. He walked along each wall, extending his magic as he did, remembering Dumbledore doing the same at the inferi lake in the original timeline. There was definitely known magic at one particular spot in the basement. Harry extended his hand, trying to get a feel for the magic. It was definitely a blood-ward of some sort, because he could feel it's pull deep within him. He smirked, wondering if it could really be that easy. He conjured a small dagger, and dragged it across his palm, making a long but shallow cut across it.

He placed his palm on the wall where the latent magic felt the strongest, and felt a mild stinging sensation around the cut. He heard a small click, and the entire wall seemed to shimmer for a moment, before fading out of sight. Harry looked at his hand, and noticed that the cut was healed. The room behind the wall was darker than the rest of the house, the walls themselves seemed to be black, with runes painted in stark white and blood red on every wall.

There was a pentagram drawn in the middle of the room, with one cauldron on each point. He knew that this was probably some sort of ritual space, designed specifically for blood rituals. He had had no idea that the Black's were so deep into the art, which had been thought lost. Of course, he didn't know if Sirius was even aware of this room, so perhaps the art was lost, with him being the last of the Blacks.

There was a dusty, huge tome set in a position of prominence along one of the walls. It was on a podium sort of construct, and was already open to the first page. Harry walked towards it, wand out, noticing for the first time that the wall had closed behind him. "Kreacher?" He called tentatively, his suspicions confirmed when the elf did not appear before him. Only those of Black blood could ever be inside this room. He shuddered to think what would happen to someone who wasn't of their lineage attempting entry into this most sacred of places. The Black's of old were known for their merciless and gruesome revenge on their enemies.

The cover of the book was embossed in gold, and had the Black family crest on it. It was a heraldic shield, with two dogs supporting it. It had stars in the top quarters, and a sword in the middle. Their motto of "Toujours Pur" was in a banner beneath the shield.

He grimaced at that. Theirs was one of the first families to be obsessed with their bloodlines. He glanced through the book, finding the introduction most illuminating.

"O ye of Black blood, ye scion of purity. Turn the pages to know the secrets of our venerable family. In this tome is marked the births and deaths of every last Black, and a vial of their blood shall be set aside for the use of our descendants."

What followed was a long list of births and deaths, with their names, date of births, deaths, cause of deaths and other details included. The vial number that contained their blood was also written next to the name. Harry found himself fascinated as he read:

 _Apollo Sarus Black. Born 1642. Died 1764, in a duel against his brother, Pollux Janus Black. Head of the Black family from 1703-1764. Blood vial: MDCXXVII_

He wished their was more information on why they had dueled. He found this sort of history quite fascinating.

Promising himself that he would come back to this room and peruse this book more thoroughly, Harry quickly turned to the last few entries. The last entry was:

 _Orion Castor Black. Born 1903. Died 1987, of Dragon Pox. Head of the Black family from 1935-1987. Blood vial: MCMLXVIII_

He was surprised the Sirius and Regulus didn't have an entry in the book. He had assumed that he would find a vial of Sirius' blood, and do a ritual that would make him his son. Now it seemed he would have to find another way. He looked around, wondering where the vials were. On a hunch, he called out the vial number: "Vial MCMLXVIII" He said to the empty room, unsurprisingly, a glass vial shimmered into existence in a receptacle near the book, that was apparently built for just that. The magic within the room was amazing. Harry considered the vial. He needed to find the book on the rituals. No sooner had he thought of it, when the pages of the tome on the pedestal began fluttering in an unseen wind, and turned open again to a new page.

"Rituals and Secrets of the House of Black." he read aloud, skimming through the pages. Some of the rituals were quite barbaric. Some were to raise fallen family members, as advanced inferi that would be even more obedient than the normal ones. One of them seemed to be a ritual to imitate the effects of the Polyjuice potion, only this one allowed a Black to assume the appearance of one of their ancestors for up to six months. This was more along the lines of what Harry was looking for. He kept turning pages. Ritual to bind a woman to the house of black for use as a sex slave. He grimaced. They really were objectionable shites, the Blacks. Ritual to ensure birth of a male heir. Ritual to take away the Black family magic from extended family members. His eyes scanned the pages as he flipped through the book, trying not to get unsettled by some of the more unsavory rituals described. Then one caught his eye. Ritual to adopt a child into the main Black family Bloodline. He quickly scanned that page.

 _To adopt a child into the main family bloodline, the child must be related to the Black family to some degree in the last six generations. The child must be willing. The child must be named in the traditions of the Black family, and must be willing to sire an heir to carry on the Black name. The child cannot be added to the bloodline ahead of a pureborn Black. If the Primary heir is alive, the child would then be the secondary heir, until the primary heir produces an heir of his own. The adopted child is then moved to tertiary heir and so on. The ritual requires the blood of the Father and the blood of the child to be adopted. The ritual is as follows:_

Harry read on, quickly getting a headache. Fortunately, he didn't have to brew a potion for this ritual. In actuality, he would be adopting _himself_ into the line, as Orion Black's son. He would for all intents and purposes, actually be the brother of Sirius and Regulus. This was perfect. He knew that he was going to choose the name Regulus Arcturus Black because it was the only one that made sense, but hoped that it wouldn't affect his own name and standing within the Potter family too much. He was after all the last Potter alive. He read through the instructions on the page again, and then mentally requested the ceremonial dagger mentioned in the book. It appeared in the center of the pentagram in the room, spinning slowly in midair. Stripping off his clothes as required, he a cut in the veil of his left arm and let it dribble into a conjured vial. He watched impassively as his dark blood flowed into the vial, looking like tar in the gloom. He reread the ritual again, before performing a healing charm on his cut, and then a cleansing charm over his entire body. He was shivering, and it had nothing to do with the cold. Grasping the two vials blood with white knuckled fingers, Harry stepped into the center of the pentagram. "Here we go." he breathed to himself.


	13. Chapter 13

Albus Dumbledore paced around in the anteroom outside Courtroom Ten. It was a quarter to three and Harry had yet to show up. He watched the Wizengamot members slowly file past and into their seats. Some waved, winked or said hello to him, while others ignored him. Still others shot him nasty looks, as they made their way into the chamber. Truth be told, he was worried about the young man, who had gone to the Black house to do some sort of ritual.

Elphias Doge was walking past, and stopped to chat. "Good Afternoon, Albus." said the man with a small smile. They had known each other since their school days, and had remained close over the many years since then. "Hello, Elphias. How are you?" asked Albus genially, hoping that he was adequately covering how worried he was. He looked at the purple Wizengamot robes with the white "W" on the chest that his friend was wearing. He was usually entitled to a red robe of the same design, being the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot. Today however he was wearing midnight blue robes, with a patterns of the moon and stars all over them, that sometimes twinkled. They were almost muted, by his usual standards. "Strange business, this." Observed his friend. Nodding distractedly, Albus pulled out his magical watch from his robe pocket. It was now five minutes to three. He was going to be called through any minute. Doge gave him a small, friendly wave, and then proceeded to his seat. If his estimation was correct, the entire body of witches and wizards were present inside the chamber already. This wasn't looking good.

On the dot of Three, an Auror stepped through, trying to mask his awe of the wizard in front of him. "Professor, they are ready for you." He said deferentially, standing to one side. Albus smiled at the man. So many of them had passed through Hogwarts during his tenure there, either as Transfiguration teacher or as Headmaster, that they would never see him as anything other than "Professor" he had lost count of the countless witches and wizards he had requested to call him by his given name. It was difficult for them until they were usually past their fiftieth year, and sometimes even later. By magical standards, Albus was now old, and was probably going to retire in the next few years. He had hoped to be Headmaster until Harry had finished school. The time travel now put a different spin on that idea.

He followed the Auror into the chamber, seeing the entire Wizengamot sitting before him. The Chief Warlock seat was taken up by Dexter Greengrass, who gave him a small but respectful nod. He was known to be a fair man and would follow the law to the letter. Albus made his way to the center of the room, which contained a chair which had chains on it. Frowning a little at the discourtesy, he drew his wand, and conjured himself one of his favorite squashy armchairs, in a glaring pink color. There were some titters from the member.

" _Hem Hem._ Should the accused be allowed the use of his wand, Minister, Chief Warlock?" Umbridge was staring down maliciously from the bench above, seated on the right hand of Cornelius Fudge. Dumbledore saved them both from answering by taking it upon himself.

"I think you'll find that I'm well within my rights to use my wand, Madam. This is a hearing after all, not a criminal trial. Perhaps some more perusal of the laws and rules of this chamber?" he asked her seriously, considering her over his half-moon glasses. She flushed, and quickly busied herself with the papers in front of her, looking quite officious. Fudge had a irritated look on his face, no doubt because his second had been smacked down so successfully in front of the entire body.

"Well." he began. "Investigative hearing of the Fourth of September, into negligence in his duties by Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts. Interrogators Cornelius Oswald Fudge, Dexter Greengrass, and Amelia Bones."

"Minister, shouldn't this be an internal matter for the Hogwarts Board of Governors to deal with?" came the reedy voice of Madam Griselda Marchbanks from her seat. "It is a waste of this body's time to handle the internal matters of the school." Fudge glared at her, but dared not say anything rude. The old lady glared right back at him. She was old, and had presided over Fudges' O.W.L's and N.E.W.T's. Scarier men and women than Cornelius Fudge had tried to intimidate her and failed.

"The Board has decided to defer to the Ministry in this matter, as a child is missing. If guilty, the Headmaster would be guilty of _criminal_ negligence of his charge. The Board decided to expedite the matter, and leave it to the Ministry to get to the bottom of this." he told her, gesturing towards Lucius Malfoy, Augusta Longbottom, and Alison Triton, who were all members of the Hogwarts Board of Governors. They nodded, Lucius a little smugly, and the other two a little more hesitant, as if unsure of their decision.

Dumbledore steepled his fingers, saying nothing as this unfolded before him. "If there is nothing else?" asked Fudge, looking around at the members. As nobody said anything, he turned his attention back to the center of the room. "Headmaster Dumbledore," he began , the title seeming to stick in his throat. "please describe to this body the events of September First, during the welcome feast at Hogwarts."

Dumbledore stood, and began walking around as he spoke. He wanted the attention of every person in the room to be on him, and ensured that by moving around as he spoke, their eyes and hence attention automatically followed him.

"During the feast, there was a mighty wind, and the candles flickered. A stranger appeared into the Great Hall, close to the Head table." he met several member's eye as he continued walking, his hands clasped behind his back, as if giving them a lecture.

"A student began screaming, and investigations later showed that Harry James Potter, had disappeared from the Gryffindor table at approximately the same time." There were some muted gasps at this. They had read about it in the Prophet of course, but hearing it from the Headmaster himself threw it in a different light. It was a sad testament to the standards their paper and journalism had fallen to.

No one interrupted him as he continued. "We took the stranger to the hospital wing, as he was unconscious, determined to question him on the whereabouts of Mr. Potter, in the certainty that the two occurrences must be related somehow. When he awoke, we discovered that it was Regulus Black, who claimed to be in hiding for the last thirteen years." There were more audible sounds of shock from the members this time. Most of them had been on the Wizengamot during the last few years of the war, and had heard Regulus Black be accused of being a Death Eater by Igor Karkaroff, in his bid for freedom. As he had been assumed dead at the time, nothing further had come of the matter.

Dumbledore gave them a minute to still their muttering, before continuing. "Regulus Black, was in fact, working _against_ Voldemort, from the inside, and had faked his own death when he was discovered." There was a mighty gasp, and a collective shudder seemed to roll through the room at the sound of his name. Reigning in his impatience, Dumbledore continued. He had a rapt audience, there was not a singe sound in the chamber except for his footsteps and his voice.

"Prior to faking his death, he had spoken with his brother, Sirius Black, who had charged him with the safety of his Godson, Harry James Potter, in the event that something happened to him. As most of you know, Sirius Black was then incarcerated for his role in the murder of Lily and James Potter."

They were all silent, listening attentively. "Following the death of his parents, I myself, in my capacity as Chief Warlock, had the Potter will sealed, and the boy placed with his maternal relatives, in a safe location. I felt that it would be detrimental to his growth had be grown up in our world, with the adulation of the general public." He saw a few nods, mostly from older witches at that. They could probably understand how that could turn any child's head, and possibly make them insufferable.

"For his own safety, I ensured that nobody knew of Harry's whereabouts. Regulus could not find him, and remained in hiding, until the boy accepted his place at Hogwarts." he paused, unsure how he was going to explain this. Severus had come up with this idea, but he had no idea how to make it believable, given the wards around the castle.

"Once Harry was at Hogwarts, some sort of family magic alerted Regulus to the same, and he appeared, taking Harry Potter into his custody, as agreed upon with his brother." There were scoffs around the chamber at that. Most were probably wondering how Regulus had breached the wards to get himself into the school, and yet again to get Harry out of the school. It was unthinkable to most of them, who had also attended Hogwarts.

"That is my knowledge of the events of September the First." Albus informed them calmly, resuming his seat in his pink armchair. "Questions?" he asked, his hands calmly in his lap. As time passed, he was getting more worried about Harry not returning from the Black house. He could only hope that nothing had gone wrong with the ritual.

"How did this man who claims to be Regulus Black, enter the castle through the wards?" asked Fudge.

"I do not know that at this time." replied Dumbledore, knowing that it was doing nothing for his case. It was his _job_ to know.

"Where is Mister Black?" asked Amelia Bones, staring at Dumbledore through her monocle. "His presence was requested here as well."

"I do not -" Dumbledore was interrupted by the doors opening with a bang. The members gaped at the newcomer as he walked into their chamber, head held high. He had the aristocratic looks of the Blacks, with dark black hair that was slightly wavy and down to the nape of his neck. His eyes were a dark gray, and his robes were tailored to perfection. His whole bearing screamed wealth and nobility as he strode confidently into the chamber, his wand twirling in one hand as he looked around at the members.

Regulus was internally smiling as he remembered Dumbledore bailing him out of a similar situation with a timely arrival, in the original timeline.

"I am indeed present, Madam Bones." he said, while the room exploded into mutters and whispers. Fudge was banging his gavel on the table, glaring daggers at the intruder. "Silence." he called out to no avail, banging the gavel down several times as he tried to restore order to the chamber.

Regulus winked at Dumbledore, and then conjured himself a similar armchair, only his was black, and had the Black family crest on it. Truth be told he had not conjured it, but summoned it from Grimauld Place using an advanced combination of a conjuration and summoning charm, that allowed the user to bring objects to him or her, if they knew exactly where the object in question was, and could picture it clearly in their mind. Regulus could clearly picture this chair from the study in Grimauld Place, and decided to summon it, to make a statement with the crest. He sat down, and passed a note to Dumbledore, as the chamber slowly came back to it's previous state of attention.

"Who are you?" asked Dexter Greengrass, from the Chief Warlocks chair. "I am Regulus Arcturus Black" came the confident reply, causing another round of muttering to pass through the chamber.

Fudge banged his gavel several times, staring around the room, before he settled his venomous gaze on Regulus. "As I told you at Hogwarts, whoever you are. You _cannot_ impersonate a dead man. I won't have it. _We_ will not allow it. Aurors!" he exclaimed. "Please cast a revealing charm on this imposter so that we can discover just who he is!" The two Aurors who had been standing below the Minister's podium stepped forward, wands out. Regulus pocketed his wand, and stood up, giving the two a slight bow. "Gentlemen." he said, his arms spread wide. "I am complying with you. Please cast any revelation charm you'd like." The two Aurors wasted no time in sending a whole array of spells at Regulus, seeming more and more dubious as none of them had any effect. After about three minutes, the senior Auror Gawain Robards turned to the Minister. "Minister this man is not under any glamour or disguise charm. We have thoroughly checked him. The only other possibility is Polyjuice potion." The Minister nodded stiffly, motioning the men back to their positions. Regulus resumed his seat, and looked at the Minister as if he was the most interesting person on the planet.

"Since we will definitely be here for more than an hour, we shall have our answer about the Polyjuice Potion soon enough." growled Fudge. "All members please note that this man is not permitted to eat or drink anything for the next hour." There were nods from around the chamber. It seemed reasonable enough, to ensure that he didn't manage to take another dose of Polyjuice potion, if that was indeed what was disguising him.

However the next actions of the "imposter" himself left them stunned. "I, Regulus Arcturus Black, swear on my life and my magic, that I am not under any glamour or disguise charm, nor any potion, including Polyjuice potion and this is indeed my true appearance. So mote it be." There was a flash, as magic accepted the oath. There were startled gasps from around the room, as the oath was accepted. Dumbledore himself reared back, wondering what the man was playing at. He knew as well as anyone that he was not truly Regulus Black.

" _Lumos"_ Said Regulus, lighting up his wand, to prove he still had his magic. "You don't have to wait for an hour Minister." he said with a small smile as he sat down again. Dumbledore shot him an amazed look, which he smirked at. He looked pointedly at the note, which lay forgotten in the Headmaster's grasp. He quickly scanned it, and looked at Regulus in some surprise. He then gave a sharp nod.

"That-that-that's outrageous!" exclaimed the flummoxed Minister, as he realized that the oath also made it abundantly clear to the entire body that he was _indeed_ Regulus Black. His oath would not have been accepted had he not been. It would have been like Cornelius Oswald Fudge making an oath but using a different name. It would be null and void.

"Minister, I believe it is abundantly plain that I am indeed Regulus Black. If there is nothing else, I wish to discuss my charge with the Headmaster." Cornelius was sputtering, looking to his aides for help. He needed someone to ask questions.

Lucius Malfoy was staring at Regulus with narrowed eyes. What he was seeing was impossible, yet the magical oath that the man had taken made things a bit muddy. He knew that there were ways to skirt an oath, his family had practiced them for generations. It usually involved having at least one more middle name that nobody knew about, and leaving that name out when making the oath, combined with wandlessly generating that flash that magic had accepted the oath. Yet from his time as a Death Eater he knew that Regulus Arcturus Black was the man's entire name, there were no other names. He had to know that information, since it was required when taking the oath to Lord Voldemort, and Lucius had been present when the man had made his vow and received the Dark Mark. It was a complete mystery that he was determined to solve. Lucius was mostly grateful that the Wizengamot had not got as far as to voting whether or not to question the man under veritaserum. It would set a dangerous precedent.

"You have proved that you are Regulus Black, but why is it that you consider Harry James Potter to be your "charge"? It is on record that Sirius Orion Black is the Godfather to Harry James Potter, and he is currently in Azkaban" it was Dexter Greengrass who came to the Minister's rescue.

"Exactly!" half-shouted Fudge, pointing an accusatory finger at Regulus. "You are a Death Eater! You have kidnapped the hero of the wizarding world, and justice shall be meted out to you!" Regulus rolled his eyes at the man's flare for the dramatic.

Rolling his sleeves up all the way to his arms, he held up his bare arms for the whole chamber to see. "I do not bear the Dark Mark, as you can all see. I indeed pretended to be a supported of Voldemort, while at the same time working towards his demise. I shall swear it on my magic if needs be." There was silence in the chamber at his simple pronouncement. Most of them had not seen an oath being taken in many years, and to have this young man so confidently say that he was not a follower of the Dark Lord created doubts in most of their minds. Lucius Malfoy was staring at the man, trying to figure him out. He was not at all happy with this man's penchant of swearing everything with his magic. It allowed him to get people to believe him quickly, and the Malfoy patriarch wondered how long it would be before someone vocally wondered why _he_ didn't swear his innocence on his magic himself, and clear his name once and for all. This would not do.

"Magical oaths are not to be taken lightly, young man." Said Augusta Longbottom stiffly from her chair. "They are absolutely binding, and the incorrect wording of one can see you dead, or turned into a squib." Regulus gave her a small bow of acknowledgment. "I shall phrase it carefully." he said, returning to the center of the chamber and looking around at them. "I, Regulus Arcturus Black swear on my life and my magic that I was never a true follower of the Dark Lord Voldemort, and I was working towards destroying him. So mote it be." There was a flash of magic again,

" _Lumos."_ Said Regulus confidently, followed by " _Nox."_ He didn't say anything more about his allegiance. It was proved beyond doubt in the presence of the majority of the Wizengamot. He turned back to the blustering Minister, who seemed at a loss as to what to do, given the oath that clearly exonerated this man.

"Minister Fudge, as for your kidnapping charges, my brother is Harry's Godfather. Prior to his incarceration, he charged me with the well-being and the safety of his Godson, which I was unable to ensure, given the secretive nature in which the child was raised. When he came to Hogwarts, I exercised my right to protect him in accordance with the wishes of his Godfather."

"Ha!" snorted Fudge derisively. "Sirius Black was the most loyal servant You-Know-Who had. He was the right hand man, who was secret keeper to the Potter's and betrayed them to the dark lord! The man is a convicted felon, who killed Peter Pettigrew as well as _thirteen_ innocent muggles when confronted with his crimes. Yet you would have us believe that he was concerned for the welfare of his Godson? Whose parents he himself sent to an early grave?" Fudge's tone was mocking and scathing, and yet, there were nods from around the chamber. The wizarding world had spent too long a time believing that Sirius was a Death Eater. Regulus was about to change that. His gray eyes flat and cold, he glared at the Minister.

"You seem to think that every Black is a Death Eater, Minister. Yet the contrary was just proved. I'm glad you mentioned that my brother is a "convicted felon"" he said coldly, clasping his hands behind his back and standing erect. He exuded power that almost made the timid Minister quail. "I was abroad at the time of my brother's arrest, yet I noticed there was no media coverage of the trial. As the right hand man to Voldemort" he ignored the gasps of shock and the small shrieks from around the room. "it strikes me as amazing that there was no mention of his trial in the Daily Prophet. I'm sure the Minstry would have loved to let the public know that it had saved them all from the dreaded Sirius Black?"

Fudge looked around at his staff, wondering which one of them would come to his aid this time. "The Ministry was under the leadership of Millicent Bagnold at the time, Mr. Black. Perhaps you'd be better served asking someone from that administration about this?" asked Umbridge in her sugary sweet voice. Regulus stared at her evenly. "I intend to do just that." he stated quietly, before turning to Madam Bones. "Madam may I request a copy of the transcript of my brother's trial? I believe that falls under your department's purview." She gave him a nod, making a note on the parchment in front of her.

"You can come by my office tomorrow morning, Mr. Black, and I will have it ready for you." Regulus gave her a small bow.

"If there is nothing else?" he asked the chamber in general. Dumbledore was sitting forgotten in his pink armchair, watching the events unfold around him in bemusement. "Where is Harry Potter?" screeched the Minister, his face an impressive shade of puce. "Where is the boy-who-lived?" Regulus stared down his nose impassively at the man. "He is within my care, Minister. Unless you are going to arrest me for some imagined crime, he shall remain in my protective custody. The Ministry has no say in this, as it is an internal family matter. If that is all, I have a lot to discuss with Headmaster Dumbledore and shall take my leave." His eyes swept around the courtroom, before he gave them a small bow and walked out of the doors. Dumbledore followed him out, humming a jaunty tune to himself. Regulus Black was proving to be a most entertaining diversion.


	14. Chapter 14

Regulus Black walked down Diagon Alley, his wand twirling expertly in his hand. It was a habit of his that he found hard to break. Years of war had made his wand an extension of his arm, and it was never far away from him. He never compromised his wand arm, not even while drinking water; he always held his glass in his left hand, and was quite leery of shaking hands with people. Some said he was as paranoid as Mad Eye Moody had been, but he felt it was a small price to pay for being safe. He used to have his invisibility cloak with him at all times. He mentally noted to ask Dumbledore to give it back to him here. He knew they weren't yet at war in this timeline, but some habits just couldn't be broken, such as wearing his armor every single time he stepped out of his personal quarters. He also had a penchant for wearing black, since he found that it was harder to spot in the shadows or in the night, which was when many encounters with the dark forces usually happened.

Of course, in the previous timeline, things had deteriorated to the point where it was quite common for confrontations to happen in broad daylight, with no regard for bystanders, magical or muggle. The Department of Magical Catastrophe's had had their jobs cut out for them. As evil as he was, Voldemort had never been foolish enough to allow the muggles to learn of their existence. Perhaps it was because he was a half-blood himself and had realized what a lot of muggles could do if backed into a corner. They outnumbered the magicals greatly. Still, Voldemort had not been averse to throwing around memory charms left and right, and hence they had gotten used to having to fend off Death Eaters at any point of the day or the night.

His reflexes had been honed to snap off a spell before anyone else could even think about what was happening. Striding down the street, he made his way towards the white edifice that was Gringotts Bank. Looking at the huge building, taking in the pillars, steps and the magnificent golden double doors, he well recalled the first time he had ever seen it. Hagrid had brought him to withdraw money from the trust vault that he had no idea he had. Smiling softly, he made a mental note to visit Hagrid as soon as he could. It would feel good to rekindle his friendship with the gentle giant.

He walked up the steps, grateful that for the first time in a long time nobody was accosting him as he went about his business. He put his wand away, not wanting it to seem like he was armed. His appearance wasn't _too_ different from the glamour he had cast a few days ago, but it did have some differences. He was slightly taller, and had a slightly paler complexion. His clothes were under a temporary stretching charm, and he was making his way to the bank to withdraw some funds to acquire some new attire and other things that he deemed essential. One thing that everyone had noticed about him in the past time line was that he had absolutely no value for gold. If something was needed, he purchased it without question. If someone needed to be bribed, he only had to know how much. And they had had to bribe people quite often. The stalwarts of the light had been averse to paying base scum money for information, but Remus, Ron and himself had convinced them that winning was winning, no matter how.

Of course it would be a little different this time, since he only had his trust vault and the Potter vaults available to him. That was not a small amount, but it paled in comparison to the combined wealth of the Blacks and the Potters that he had had access to previously.

He walked across the marble floor, ignoring the lines of witches and wizards standing and waiting for their turn to meet a teller. He made his way directly to the head teller, who was sitting at a large table which was positioned well above his head. He walked quietly up to him and waited for the goblin to notice him. Seeing as he wasn't going to, he decided to start the conversation

"Good afternoon." he said quietly, causing the goblin to look down in surprise over his desk, his pen still poised over his parchment. They weren't used to civility from wizards, let alone politeness. "I would like to meet Ironclaw, please. Let him know that Regulus Black would like to see him." The goblin sneered at him. "Regulus Black is dead, _wizard_. The senior manager of a Gringotts account has better things to do with his time than to meet with the likes of you." Regulus gave him a patient smile. "Get Ironclaw. If I'm not who I say I am we'll know soon enough." His gaze turned flat. "If I am and you turn me away, it won't be very good for you now will it, _goblin ?"_ The Goblin stared at him for a moment with an unpleasant look on his face before hopping off his stool and making his way through a door behind him. Regulus knew not to show weakness in front of the goblins. They respected strength, and did not adhere to human rules of polite engagement. He had met rude goblins and shrewd goblins, but he had never met one who minced words. He stood patiently, examining the glass dome that showed the blue sky, scudded with fluffy white clouds. London was having uncharacteristically good weather for this time of year. Barely five minutes later, the teller returned, and crooked one long and wrinkled finger at him, gesturing for him to enter the door behind him.

Regulus walked down the dim corridor, looking with interest at the crystals that gave off a dim red glow along the walls. The Goblins didn't use torches, thanks to the rare pockets of methane gas they found in the tunnels. It wouldn't do for them to have an explosion in the bowels of muggle London. It hadn't taken Regulus long to realize that the network of tunnels was way below the tubes, and extended under a huge portion of muggle London. He had learned that the goblins had been tunneling here from the time of the Romans, when the city was still called Londinium. They walked in silence, heading towards one of the offices set aside for the use of senior staff. Ironclaw was the Account Manager for the Blacks, and had been made the Potter account manager as well by Harry in the previous timeline. He was a no-nonsense warrior, quite old, even by his long-lived races' standards. He was cousin to Ragnok, the King of the goblins in England. Harry had never met the manager of the Potter accounts in the previous timeline, as he had died due to some magical illness. He didn't know who the goblin was in this timeline, but after his dealings with Ironclaw he was determined to make him the manager of the Potter accounts as well.

They reached double doors, which had two heavily armed goblins outside them. Though he might choose to work at the bank, Ironclaw was still related to the goblin royal family, and warranted bodyguards and a whole squadron of goblins should he have need of them.

The teller walked in without knocking, obviously having informed Ironclaw of his soon-to-be visitor. He showed Regulus into the room, and then with a small bow, backed out, not having said a word. Regulus studied the goblin behind the desk with interest. He was younger than when they had met in the previous timeline, but still had the same hardened, stern look that he had come to know so well. He would not go so far as to say that they had been friends in the previous timeline, but they had each had vast respect for the other. Ironclaw had appreciated Harry's willingness to learn about goblin customs and his fair and respectful treatment of them. Now he stood, observing the goblin, who was gazing shrewdly back at him. He knew that since he was in goblin territory, and Ironclaw was not only royalty but also a senior account manager, he would have to wait for him to speak first.

"A patient, and polite wizard. Now I've seen everything." was the first dry comment that Ironclaw made, his gravelly, raspy voice much the same as it had always been. Regulus inclined his head slightly. He was sure that he was going to shock this goblin five ways from Sunday.

"Greetings, Senior Manager Ironclaw. May your coffers overflow, and your enemies quail at the mere thought of you." he gave the traditional greeting of the goblins in English. It was a loose translation, but it was more effort than most wizards ever put in. He knew that Dumbledore and Barty Crouch were rumored to speak fluent Gobbledegook, but he had never learned the language himself. He found that besides parseltongue, he really didn't have a talent for languages. He saw Ironclaw look at him with his eyes wide in surprise. It was extremely rare to find a wizard who understood or even cared for goblin etiquette. He nodded his head, unable to reply, as he didn't know the name or title of the person in front of him, and according him that respect was mandatory in the traditional greeting.

Understanding his dilemma, Regulus spoke again, taking no offense that his greeting was unanswered. He knew exactly why. "I am Harry James Regulus Arcturus Black Potter." he stated, groaning inwardly at the number of names he now had to utter if he wanted to give an _actual_ oath on his magic. The courtroom scene had worked because he _was_ "Regulus Arcturus Black" but it wasn't all he was. He had wandlessly conjured the flashes that imitated magic accepting his oath. It was not unheard of, but was extremely difficult to do since most people's full names were on record _somewhere._ And he had actually taken all three of the same names as Regulus. The Black family magic recognized him as Regulus Arcturus Black III to be precise. Apparently old Reggie had also been named after some ancestor or the other.

The goblin continued to look surprised, no doubt wondering how the man came to have such an amalgamation of names. He knew the Black family tradition of astronomically inspired names, but was taken aback at the "Harry James Potter" part of it.

"Greetings, Harry James Regulus Arcturus Black. May your coffers overflow, and your enemies tremble at the mere thought of you. Please have a seat, and explain to me how you come to have the name of a dead man, combined with the name of an eleven year old boy, who just happens to be missing at the moment." he gestured to one of the chairs in front of his desk. Taking a seat, Regulus looked at him, wondering how much he could safely reveal to the goblin. He knew that anything that he told him regarding finances was covered under the client privilege oath that all account manager's had to take, but first he had to convince the man that he was his account manager.

"I would like to do a heritage test. I have recently learned that I am heir to a few houses, and would like to ratify those claims." he said quietly, looking earnestly at him. The goblin nodded, having expected something like that. "I can arrange for that to happen, for a small fee." he said. Regulus smiled "for a small fee" was one of Ironclaw's favorite phrases. Regulus couldn't count the number of times that he had heard it. He inclined his head in acceptance. Ironclaw rang a bell that was on his desk, and summoned in an aide who was working in the attached room. "Bring me the blood ritual bowl, Turbag." he said, not sparing the aide even a glance. A quick bow and the goblin left. They sat in silence for about five minutes, waiting for him to return. Regulus stared around the office in fascination. There were weapons hanging on the walls. Battle axes and swords, helms and greaves. The entire wall had weapons forged by some of the best smiths in the goblin nation. Many of them had been used by Ironclaw's ancestors in various battles, including the goblin rebellion of 1745. Ironclaw came from a long line of warriors, and it showed in his banking skills. He was cut throat and devious, and got what he wanted with a combination of an iron will and instilling a healthy amount of fear in all those he dealt with.

Turbag returned, with the golden ritual bowl and dagger, that he placed on Ironclaw's desk with a small bow. Apparently Ironclaw's miserly use of words was adopted by his staff. With a welcoming gesture. He gestured to the bowl. It was a golden, shallow bowl, engraved with runes around it. Regulus took it, and placed it on his lap. Ironclaw raised an eyebrow. "You are familiar with this ritual?" he asked in surprise. Most pure blood families didn't do the ritual because some ancestor or the other had already done it and then they maintained their own family trees. Although some families disowned squibs and family members who married muggles, their names were still on record with the bank. After the goblin rebellion the goblins got the monopoly of wizard banking in the British Isles. It was one of the factors that had ended the last rebellion. The older wizarding families had had vaults in the ban for more than a millennium. There were other banks open at that time, run by gnomes and dwarfs, and some by the wizards themselves, but Gringotts had always been the most successful bank. Now Ironclaw watched as the young man made a small cut on his palm and dribbled some blood into the ritual bowl. He handed the bowl to Ironclaw. He then dipped an enchanted quill into the blood, and placed it on a piece of parchment. The quill began writing by itself, using magic that had been cast on it long ago by some of the best wizards of that time. He raised his eyebrows as it kept writing for longer than he had ever seen, and then stopped. "It records the houses you're related to in the decreasing order of their antiquity." he explained, as it stopped writing. He got a nod in return. He offered the parchment to Regulus, who looked cursorily at it.

 _Harry James Regulus Arcturus Black:_

 _Heir to the Protected Line of Gryffindor - Unclaimed_

 _Heir to the Protected Line of Slytherin - Unclaimed_

 _Custodian of the Ancient House of Peverell - Unclaimed_

 _Secondary Heir to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black – Unclaimed_

 _Head of the Noble House of Potter - Unclaimed_

Regulus smiled. He was not sure if he was the secondary heir to the House of Black because Sirius had names him such or because of the blood adoption, but it worked out the same either way. He now had proof that he was the secondary heir to the House of Black.

He looked at Ironclaw for a moment. "I want you to take over the Potter account, Ironclaw." Ironclaw shifted slightly in his seat. While the Potter holdings weren't as large as the Black holdings, they were still substantial. The Potters ranked as one of the top fifteen richest families in the entire land. It would be an honor for him to be their manager, especially as their Head of House had asked for it. "You have to claim your Lordship, Mr. Black-Potter. Regulus smiled. It was the first time that someone had hyphenated his name without the use of empty titles. He found he liked it as it honored both his parents and his Godfather. He was especially proud to bear the name of Regulus Black, who had worked behind the scenes to get rid of Voldemort. The man may have been a true follower initially, but had soon realized that Voldemort was very bad news and had worked towards destroying him. He had lost his life for his change in belief and that was the supreme sacrifice. He knew how this was done as well. "I, Harry James Regulus Arcturus Black, claim my place as the Head of the Noble House of Potter. So mote it be." there was a golden flash of magic, and the Potter family ring appeared on the index finger of his left hand. It felt good to have it on again. He had gone quite used to wearing both the Potter and Black family rings. Gryffindor and Slytherin didn't have family rings, since the custom had began after their time. He had Gryffindor's sword, through which he could channel magic, just like a wand, and there were no known heirlooms of Slytherin's besides the locket that he had destroyed. Not skipping a beat, he continued. "I, Harry James Regulus Arcturus Black, claim my place as the Secondary Heir to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black." There was another flash, and the secondary heir ring appeared next to the Potter ring. It wasn't the ring he was used to, but it helped support his claim. He knew that the Peverell family ring actually had the resurrection stone set into it, and he didn't want to touch that, given the curse that was on it. Had he claimed it, it would have appeared, despite Voldemort's many wards and protections on his family shack. But he didn't know a way to summon it that didn't include him getting cursed as soon as it appeared on his finger so he didn't call for it. He was satisfied with the two for now.

"You have unrestricted access to the Potter vaults and properties, Lord Potter." said Ironclaw with a small seated bow. Regulus bowed back seriously. "Thank you Ironclaw. I charge you with taking over the Potter Accounts from whichever goblin is currently in charge. Please report the status of all vaults and properties as soon as you." Ironclaw inclined his head in assent. It was quite a coup for him to be handling both the Potter and the Black accounts. They were some of Gringotts biggest clients. "You also have a trust vault designated for the secondary heir of the house of Black." he informed dutifully. Regulus nodded in surprise. He had had unrestricted access to the Black vaults the last time around, and had not expected anything this time, given that his Godfather was alive and well, praise Merlin.

He stood, and extended his hand. The goblin stared at him, mouth agape. He could not remember the last time in recorded history that a goblin and human had shook hands. He stood, and uncertainly took the hand, as it was not a goblin custom to shake hands. "It has been a refreshing pleasure doing business with you, Lord Potter." he said with a small smile. He was unused to being treated as an equal by humans. "The pleasure was mine Ironclaw. I look forward to your owl." With a friendly nod at each other, they parted ways. Ironclaw stood, bemused for a moment, before returning to his desk and ringing the bell for his aide. They had a lot of work to do to bring the new Lord Potter up to speed in relation to his accounts.

Asking the Head teller to have someone take him to the Potter vault, Regulus enjoyed the thrilling roller-coaster ride down the tunnels. Once there, he placed his ring in the receptacle in the door, after the goblin ran his finger down the lock. He walked in and looked around in appreciation. He picked up the letter's from each of his parents which he was supposed to receive on his seventeenth birthday when he came of age and was allowed access to this vault. He knew the contents of both letters by heart, the words burned into his memory. He took them now, as a physical reminder of the two people who had given up their lives for him. Filling a small sack full of galleons, he looked at the portraits of his parents and grandparents that were in a suspended state, to not wear out the charms. He knew that he would have too much to explain if he activated the portraits right now, and decided to do it later, when he had more time to sit down and enjoy talking with the impressions of his parents. He gave a small sigh, and left the vault with more galleons than most wizards earned in a year.

Regulus exited the bank, mentally requesting the Potter ring to disillusion itself. He didn't want people asking why the secondary heir to the house of black was wearing the Potter head of house ring. He had quite a few purchases to make. His first stop was at Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. He bought himself three sets of robes, all black. He ordered a pair of leather pants, that he had grown accustomed to wearing. The leather took a while to break in, but after that it became supple and supportive of any range of motion. He asked for a matching full-sleeved jerkin to go with it. He also purchased one set of dress robes in a dark forest green color, just in case. Telling the assistant that he would pick them up post alteration in about an hour, he made he way further down the alley. He had gotten used to having a vast collection of books in the previous timeline, but knew that he would have to wait this time around, as he had bigger things to take care of. He walked past Flourish and Blotts, and moved towards Triton's Trunks and Other Luggage. He bought a seven compartment trunk, with a feature that allowed him to shrink it down to the size of a matchbox. By the end, he had been living out of his trunk in the previous timeline, and though he didn't have as many possessions this time, he was determined to be as prepared as he could. His next stop was Quality Quidditch Supplies, where he shocked the clerk by ordering the Firebolt, which had just been produced, and had just been approved for sale to the general public. It would be a few months before they stocked the broom, but for someone who special ordered it, it would be available the next week, with a five hundred galleon increase in price. Not even the English, Welsh or Irish International Quidditch teams had special ordered the brooms at that surcharge. Regulus walked away with a spring in his step. He was looking forward to taking to the skies again. It was his retreat from the madness of the world. He made his way towards the magical menagerie. There was an old friend he needed to pick up from there. He smiled as he saw her, amber eyes glowing in the gloom of the shop. Her white plumage just as he had always remembered her. "Hedwig." he breathed, taken aback by the amount of emotion he felt, seeing his snowy owl alive and well in this timeline. She had been shot down by Death Eater's in the previous timeline. It had been one of the hardest days of his life. He bought and paid for her, a perch and some owl treats, asking the proprietor to send the things to Hogwarts to Regulus Black. If the man was surprised at the name, he hid it well. He ran his fingers over her head, looking into her huge amber eyes. "Hello, girl." She looked quite sleepy, he assumed that it was because it was not yet her time to be awake, though dusk was quick approaching. It was about a quarter to six by then. "Wait till it's dark, and then make your way to Hogwarts." he whispered at her, receiving a blink in response. He let her fly back into the rafters of the shop, content in the knowledge that he'd see her at the castle soon.

He made his way through the alley, down to the beginning of Knockturn Alley. In the previous timeline, he had come to know that there was nothing particularly dark about the place. It was just that it was older than Diagon Alley, and didn't really mind who took a shop on rent as long as that rent was paid. The store owner's of Diagon Alley made sure to spread the word that it was filled with criminals, and that had ironically led to criminals going there in search of other criminals. Harry remembered chortling about that with Hermione and Ron. It was self-fulfilling prophecy in a way. He smiled as he walked into the alley. He had no fear of being accosted by anyone or anything he couldn't handle. He made his way to a small out of the way shop called Thorne and Rammsteins Armory. It was an old shop, with dusty glass windows, and it looked like it hadn't had a patron in a long time. The tinkle of the bell brought a man to the counter. He was huge, standing at six and a half feet, with broad shoulders and a ponderous belly. His dense beard was black, shot through with gray, and he had piercing blue eyes. "Yes?" he asked gruffly, looking up and down at the well dressed man standing in front of him. His type weren't his usual kind of customers. He usually had Aurors and Hitwizards as his clients, as well as the people who made their jobs difficult. Poachers, hunters and other petty ad dangerous criminals were always on the lookout for some extra protection against the law enforcement people.

His family had been making armor for centuries, in collaboration with their German business partners. Five hundred years ago a deal had been struck between his ancestor, Malcolm Thorne and Ernst Rammstein. "I need to get in touch with Jürgen." Regulus said politely, knowing that the man's German counterpart was a wild card, who was always traveling the world and finding new materials to craft armor and wand holsters out of. His life's goal was to make an invisibility cloak that wasn't made from demiguise hair, and that wouldn't fade after a few years. He was quite well known in the magical creatures aficionado circles as a madman, who had the strangest affiliations with creatures all over the world. The huge man grunted. "I don't know where he is." he said, put out that he was not going to make a sale. "Tell him that someone was asking for him, with information about a Basilisk hide." The man's eyebrows shot up. "You jest. Nobody has heard of a Basilisk since 1731 when the last one was killed in the tunnels below Gringotts." Regulus smiled to himself. He hadn't known that. It was interesting to know that there had been a Basilisk in the tunnels, if it was common knowledge there would be far less people making the trip down to their vaults in the carts. He wondered if the Basilisk had been bred by Gringotts as some sort of protection measure, and had gotten out of control. He wouldn't put it past the goblins. "please just pass on the information, Allister." said Regulus with a smile. "An owl sent to Regulus Black at Hogwarts will find me." he gave a small bow and walked out of the store, leaving the man pondering how exactly he had known his name.

His next stop was an apothecary, that didn't really have a name, but was known to black market potioneers as "The shop". There was no bell this time, just a ward that alerted the proprietor that someone had entered. He stood in the gloom, looking around with interest. There were jars of ingredients all over, each more gruesome and dark than the other. Several potions had fallen out of use due to the sources of the ingredients being extinct, or illegal to obtain. "The shop" usually found a way to procure them, though they charged exorbitant rates both for their services and for their discretion. A wizened old witch appeared out of the gloom, with pale, bulbous eyes that were startlingly white. It was quite a shock to someone seeing it for the first time, but Regulus was unfazed. "I have a requirement, which won't be easy to come by." she said nothing, but stared at him impassively. "I require three grains of sand from a time turner he informed her. Her pale eyes bugged out even more. "And I want the intestines of the first born foal of a unicorn in it's prime, but you get used to disappointment in life." she told him sarcastically, turning away. "Price is no object." he informed her quietly. "Look mister, I would love to be able to charge you a fortune for just _one_ grain of sand from a time turner but it's just not possible. There hasn't been an unregistered time turner in living memory. Perhaps you should talk to the department of mysteries?" she asked, sarcastic tone still in place. "It's impossible." she concluded flatly, before turning away. Regulus stepped out of the shop into the dusk. Apparently he'd have to go about acquiring the sand in some other manner. He made his way back to Diagon Alley, deciding to pick up his robes and eat some supper at the Leaky Cauldron before heading back to Hogwarts. He had an early morning appointment with Amelia Bones, and decided that he would use his trip to the Ministry to go to the DoM and take out the prophecy from their records, while assessing their security. It had been breached by five students the last time around, so he wasn't expecting much of a challenge. He set off to the Leaky Cauldron with a spring in his step. Things were progressing apace.


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: - Sorry for the delay in posting this chapter. I've been traveling and spending some time with my family. Back to the story: It's been pointed out to me that I made a couple of mistakes in the story and I would like to clarify a few points. First off, the oath that Harry took to ensure the safety of the residents of the castle. I didn't understand that it would give a blanket cover to Pettigrew, Quirrell and Draco Malfoy. I managed to mitigate it but it was a little thin. Second was the spelling of Tom Marvolo Riddle. I'd been adding in an extra "L" in the name. I shall make the changes going forward. Third is Harry picking up Hedwig, since the timeline would not have changed until the Welcome Feast and so he would have already have Hedwig. I got a little carried away in my Diagon Alley description and bringing up Hagrid made me think of Hedwig. It's a silly mistake, and I won't be taking it out from the story but for the people to whom tiny details matter, myself included, I just wanted to put it out there. Fourth, its been pointed out that the Firebolt wasn't available until his third year, I'm just conjecturing that it was already developed but had yet to hit the market. I'm sure they spent many years in RnD to develop it. I hope you guys are enjoying the story and look forward to reviews. I don't usually answer every individual review, but I am grateful for all the input that I've got so far. :}**

Albus Dumbledore rose from his chair at the Head table. Dinner was just concluding, and the wards had alerted him to the fact that someone had just Flooed into his office. Knowing that it was probably Harry, he walked briskly towards his office. He was feeling lighter than he had in years. He knew that it was only the beginning, but he truly felt that they had made strides towards getting rid of Voldemort once and for all in the last few days than they had made in decades. And it was all thanks to the mysterious young man who had appeared out of nowhere. Albus couldn't begin to understand the horrors that the man had been through, but given some of his comments and his wistful looks around the castle, he was willing to bet that if Voldemort rose again, things would turn out far worse than they had during his first rise.

The gargoyle leaped out of the way, and he made his way up the spiral staircase. He entered his office to find Harry sitting in the corner, his legs crossed and a brandy snifter in his hands. He was the picture of Pure blood elegance in his new finely tailored robes and aristocratic looks. Smiling at the young man, Dumbledore poured himself a brandy as well before joining him at what was now their regular meeting spot. Raising his glass, his blue eyes twinkling he toasted the man. "Here's to Regulus Black, returned from the dead and getting one over the Ministry. That was masterfully handled, my boy." Harry raised his glass back at the man, examining the feelings that had suddenly cropped up. He was now going to have to play Regulus Black for the foreseeable future, at least until they dealt with Voldemort. He was not sure how he felt about that. "Please, Albus, when we are alone, I would prefer it if you called me Harry." he said seriously. Albus nodded, his eyes dimming a little. He could only imagine what a burden it was to have to give up your whole identity to get things done. He raised his glass again. "To you, Harry." He got a small smile and they drank their brandies in silence.

"What's next?" asked Albus, banishing his empty glass back to the sideboard. "Well, I meet Madam Bones tomorrow, and she's going to realize that Sirius never got a trial. I'm going to use that same meeting to let her know that Barty Crouch Jr. is walking free." Dumbledore nodded slowly. "Aren't you worried about changing things so much that you have no idea what is to come?"

Harry considered the question. "Things have already been changed beyond recognition, Albus. I now have to trust that we can deal with and mitigate whatever is to come, based on my knowledge of people." He got a nod in return. It was a risk, but they were better off than they had ever been in the war against Voldemort, thanks to already destroying some of his Horcruxes, and knowing where others were. It was going to be much easier this time around to send the devil back to hell. "Before he died, my father left his invisibility cloak with you, Albus. I would like to have it back." Albus nodded. "It's in my vault at Gringotts, I will have it sent for and returned to you by tomorrow."

He peered at Harry through his glasses. "I wonder if you know anything about the origins of that cloak, my boy?" he asked. Harry wondered whether to tell him or not. The truth was that in his youth, Dumbledore had been obsessed with the Deathly Hallows and what it could mean for someone who possessed all three. He knew that the man had borrowed his father's cloak to study it. Having possessed all three of them at various stages, Harry knew that truly mastering death had nothing to do with immortality. It was more of being accepting of it, embracing it even, when the time came. He knew that Dumbledore already had the Elder wand, and that the ring was waiting for him to collect it from the Gaunt shack in Little Hangleton.

Truth was, he didn't know if the Headmaster's quest for power when he was younger was well and truly put to bed. The man held an extraordinary number of powerful positions, and had yet always preferred to be on the side lines. He had been asked to become Minister several times ever since his defeat of Grindelwald, yet had always chosen to remain the Headmaster of Hogwarts, where he influenced the minds of the next generation. In fact, given his age, most witches and wizards of Britain had either had Dumbledore as their transfiguration teacher, deputy Headmaster, or Headmaster. There were only the few remaining members of Dumbledore's school days, and his seniors such as Professor Tiberius Tofty and Madam Griselda Marchbanks. There were a few other old and powerful wizards and witches left around who had not felt Dumbledore's influence over Hogwarts, but they were few and far between.

The silence stretched on and Harry wondered whether to tell him or not. Deciding to give the man the benefit of the doubt he confirmed his suspicions. "Yes, it is one of the Deathly Hallows." he said, not beating around the bush. "The cloak of invisibility belonging to Death, if legends are to be believed.

Yet I theorize it's just a really powerful artifact created by the youngest Peverell brother, Ignotius. The Potter's are descended from him." Harry had never seen Dumbledore look truly gobsmacked in either timeline, but now he saw the man at a complete loss for words.

He looked quite somber as he considered Harry's words. If he was surprised that Harry knew the legend of the Deathly Hallows or the Peverell connection, he didn't show it at all. "We spent so much of our youth trying to find them." He said quietly, staring into the distance.

"You and Gellert Grindelwald." stated Harry as quietly. He merely got a look and a small nod in response. "He didn't sound like he would go so far to achieve his dreams, you know. He seemed sane. A man who after so many years could challenge me intellectually, make me question my beliefs." He looked lost in thought, every year of his age. "The Greater Good. We spent our summer playing gods, with plans and visions to make the world a better place." Harry sat quietly listening. He knew all this, thanks to Rita Skeeter's book in the previous timeline. He had never heard it from Dumbledore or his portrait though. Dumbledore sighed, and walked to the sideboard to pour himself another drink. "Your father had always had this cloak, and as the years went by, I got curious. It didn't seem to wear like other cloaks made of Demiguise hair." He resumed his seat, sipping slowly on his drink.

"It amazed me when I first saw it, and I studied it long and hard. It was an astounding artifact, and try as I might, I could not figure out how it had been made." Harry smiled as he remembered his silvery, cloak. It truly was magnificent. What made it even more special to him was that it had been in his family for generations. "I've never wondered what it was made of, but it has never failed me. How do you feel about the Elder wand?" he asked, curious. Dumbledore stared back at him, nonplussed. It surprised him a little that Harry knew he had the wand, because that wasn't common knowledge around the world. Everyone knew that he had defeated Grindelwald, they didn't know that he had also won the famed Elder wand of lore. He pulled it out now, and held it out to Harry. He took it, and examined it closely. He had never held it or seen it up close.

It had been Jurgen Rammstein who had let him know that Dumbledore had had it. In the previous timeline, it had been buried with Dumbledore, and Voldemort had been on his way to get it when Harry had attacked him. Now he held it in his hands, and examined its 15 inch length. There were carvings of elderberries along it's length. It had been known to many as "The Deathstick" and "The Wand of Destiny". Jurgen's uncle had been a follower of Grindelwald and had told him that the man had the wand. When Dumbledore had defeated Grindelwald in 1945, he had gained mastery of it, though it wasn't well known.

It thrummed with power in Harry's hands, and he was sure that it would work better for him than for most people, given that the core of this wand and his were both the tail hair of Thestrals. It might even work better for him that it did for Dumbledore, but he had no intention of trying to win the wands allegiance. He handed it back, with no comment on it. "It has never failed me, either." said Dumbledore quietly.

Seeming to brighten up a little, he placed his drink down. "Speaking of wands, I have here the Holly and Phoenix feather wand that was with your younger self before you got here." said Dumbledore, getting up to reach it inside his cabinet. He handed the wand to Harry, who took it with reverence.

There was a muted shower of sparks as the wand reconnected with him. He lovingly ran his hand over it. This wand had helped him get out of several sticky situations, and although he loved his new wand, this one would always have a special place in his heart. "Thank you, Albus." he croaked, overcome with emotion for a moment. Albus smiled softly and nodded.

"Tell me, Harry, what do you think happened to your younger self from this timeline?" He asked, picking up his drink and swirling around the snifter. Harry frowned. He didn't really know what had happened. On the one hand, they were one and the same person, so could probably not exist in two places at the same time. He had been as confused as the rest of them when his younger self had disappeared. A trill from Fawkes made him look at the bird, who stared into his eyes with his own wise, black eyes. Harry nodded slowly. He turned back to Dumbledore. "From what I understood from Fawkes, the energy required to mitigate the magic of the veil used my younger self's body to sustain it, leaving mine intact. In any case, we could not have existed on the same plane at the same time." Albus nodded thoughtfully. It made sense in a way, but was still a little sad, since eleven year old Harry Potter had no idea that this was going to happen.

Harry drained his drink and stood up. "I have an early morning meeting with Madam Bones, Albus. I need to get some rest. I shall come by your office when I find out what she has to say about Sirius' lack of trial." Dumbledore nodded. "Goodnight, Harry." "Goodnight, Professor." said Harry, striding out of the office.

The next morning, Regulus Flooed to the Atrium in the Ministry of Magic, looking around at the hustle and bustle of the Ministry workers getting about their day. It was a far cry from the last time he had seen the place. People ignored him as he strode through the atrium, walking purposefully towards the reception area. "Wand." said the bored looking wizard at the desk, not looking up, but merely stretching his hand out. A little annoyed at the discourteous behavior, Regulus handed him the Holly and Phoenix feather wand. The man placed it on the scale. "Holly and Phoenix feather, eleven and a half inches." he said in a monotone, handing the wand back without even looking up. Regulus wondered how this man would fare if every second person could be a Death Eater in disguise and trying to infiltrate the Ministry. Shaking his head in disgust, he walked towards the banks of elevators to get to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

He strode towards where he knew Madam Bones' office was, his wand twirling in his hand. Her secretary was sitting at her desk, writing on some piece of parchment. "Good Morning," said Regulus pleasantly. "I have a meeting scheduled with Madam Bones." The secretary looked up, and went a little pink in the face when she saw the debonair and handsome young man with gray eyes looking at her.

Regulus noticed that she was quite pretty, and that she seemed quite flustered at the sight of him. He grinned internally, wondering if this was how Sirius had always felt around women. It was quite an interesting sensation to have this effect on her. "O-of course, Mr. Black, please have a seat, Madam Bones will be with you momentarily." she stammered a little, pointing to the chairs outside the office. He gave her a small bow and sat down, his wand resting in his lap. She walked into the inner office, and came back within seconds and gestured for Regulus to enter.

He walked into the office. It looked pretty much as he had expected it to. Spartan, functionally furnished, and with filing cabinets all around, and parchments covering her entire desk. "Good Morning, Madam Bones." he said with a courtly bow, before taking the seat that she gestured him into.

"You're quite the conundrum, Mr. Black." she said, peering at him through her monocle. "Returned from the dead, taken Britain's national hero into your custody, and now asking questions that should have been asked a long time ago to a different administration." He smiled a little at her, not saying anything. She tapped her fingers on her desk twice and then came to the point.

"Despite trawling through file after file from that era, I am unable to find the trial file for one Sirius Orion Black, which made me curious. I sent for the clerk of the Wizengamot to get their records and he came up empty handed as well." She looked at him seriously. "Mr. Black, I'm beginning to suspect that someone has tampered with the files, and that the trial files are missing."

Regulus blinked in surprise. He had not expected her to come to that conclusion. "Pardon me, Madam, but is it not possible that he didn't _have_ a trial at all?" he asked, deciding to just come out with it. She shook her head immediately and adamantly. "That is not possible, Mr. Black. There are rules and regulations that have to be followed, and all civilians arrested by the Aurors have to be processed. His process files are here, stating the time he was brought in, a description of the scene of the crime, as well as the fact that he admitted "I killed Lily and James" several times between the time of his arrest and his incarceration in the holding cells at the Ministry."

Regulus took a deep breath. As irritating as he found this, he could not afford to antagonize this woman. He looked at her straight in the eye, wondering how much he could trust her. He knew that she was firmly on the side of the light, but she had been killed pretty early on by Death Eaters in the original timeline. He had never got to know her as such, and had had very limited interactions with her. He didn't want to swear another oath, as he was getting quite tired of them, and they were also dangerous. He remembered reading a book about a man who was stripped of his magic many years later based on an oath he had given as a young man. Circumstances changed so often that it was impossible to predict when he would find himself in a quandary and have no option but to break one of his oaths. He decided to just tell the truth and see how far it got him. Seeing a picture of Susan Bones on her desk, made him remember the vivacious red head. She had not died in the previous timeline, but had been grief-stricken over the death of her aunt and the condition of Neville Longbottom, who she had been engaged to. He took another deep breath.

"Madam, I am about to impart some information to you, and I cannot reveal the source. All I can tell you is that it is true, and ask you to believe me." he told her earnestly. She shifted uncomfortably. "Forgive me, Mr. Black, but I don't know you from the next wizard. How can you ask for my blind trust?" she asked. Unfortunately it was a perfectly reasonable question. "Amelia – may I call you Amelia?" he asked politely, knowing that being on a first name basis changed the dynamic of any relationship and helped build trust quicker. Some of the random things he had read came to use in the strangest situations. She gave a small nod.

"Amelia, there are things I know, which I can tell you, but I can't tell you how I know them." He paused, seeing the dubious look on her face. "If I lie, you can send me on the next boat to Azkaban." he told her quietly, but with burning intensity. She looked taken aback by his fervor. She gave a small uncertain nod for him to continue.

"How would you like to arrest a known Death Eater, who is supposed to be in Azkaban but isn't?" he asked her, causing her to start in her chair and frown at him. "There has never been anyone who has ever escaped from Azkaban, Mr. Black. Never once in the history of the prison." she told him primly. 

"Please, call me Regulus." he said. She nodded. "What if I were to tell you that my brother never received a trial because it would have uncovered the fact that the son of a very high-up Ministry official was a Death Eater?" he asked. He could see the wheels turning in her head. "You're talking about Barty Crouch." She said flatly. He nodded.

"Crouch Jr. was arrested and sent to Azkaban a few days after Black was." she said. His father was the one who sent him away. Regulus nodded, vividly remembering seeing that memory in the Headmaster's Pensieve in the previous timeline. He had shuddered even then at the callous way the man had said "You are no son of mine." he could see the cold look in Crouch Sr.'s eyes even now, in his minds eye.

"At the time of my brother's arrest, it was not known that Crouch Jr. was a Death Eater. My brother had found out that he was a Death Eater and Bartemius Crouch Sr knew that Sirius knew. It was why Crouch threw him into Azkaban without a trial." he spat vehemently, saying the name as if it was a swear word. He could feel the old anger at the absolute miscarriage of justice all over again. Amelia Bones sat in shock. If what this man was saying was true then it was easy enough to confirm through veritaserum. However she needed a reason to ask a high official of the Ministry questions under veritaserum. "Who is this escaped Death Eater you claim to know about?" she asked.

"Barty Crouch Jr." he said quietly, seeing her react in shock. "With his wife dying, Crouch Sr. fulfilled her last wish by allowing her to take their son's place in Azkaban under Polyjuice Potion, and he broke his son out of prison. Crouch Jr. has been out of Azkaban and under the _Imperious_ curse for years." he saw her blanch. Accusing the Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation of using an unforgivable was a serious matter. She wasn't sure how to proceed.

"If you take a small team to the Crouch residence, you'll find an extremely devoted house-elf named Winky, taking care of one Bartemius Crouch Jr, who is always under an invisibility cloak. I'm going to sit right here. If I'm wrong, you can tell me to go to hell or arrest me if you feel so inclined." he said quietly, sitting back in his chair. His cards were on the table.

She looked at him intently for a moment before shooting off a patronus. Apparently she had come to a decision. Kingsley Shacklebolt and Rufus Scrimgeour soon walked into her office, shoulder to shoulder. Regulus almost smiled, seeing both men who had been Minister of Magic at different times.

It was good to see Scrimgeour alive, even if they hadn't got along well. "Shack, Rufus, we're going on a Code Blue raid." A Code Blue was a raid against a Ministry official higher than or equivalent to the Deputy Head of Department or Undersecretary. "Not a word to anyone but the three of us. Code Blue. I'll brief you both at the apparation point." They looked surprised, but both nodded at their commanding officer without question.

The three of them moved to the Floo, to get to the apparation point in the Ministry, from which they would apparate to the Crouch residence. "You stay right there." Warned Madam Bones, pointing a finger at Regulus. He mimed crossing his heart and held up his hand, giving her a small grin. He knew that they would be back soon, with one very much alive Barty Crouch Jr along with them. They disappeared into the flames, and Regulus sat down to begin his waiting period.

It was about fifteen minutes before the trio returned, wearing identical gobsmacked expressions. They were accompanied by a stunned and bound Barty Crouch Jr, and a distraught house-elf that was wringing her hands and intermittently pulling on her ears. Shack unceremoniously dumped Crouch Jr. on the floor of the office, before turning to Madam Bones for further instructions. She massaged her temples as she wondered how to play this. Arresting a high ranking Ministry official in the middle of the morning would be a treat for the rabid press. "Rufus, go to the Department of Magical Cooperation, and tell Barty that I would like to see him in my office. He is probably going to be put out at the summons, but tell him that it is a matter of national security." Scrimgeour nodded once, and walked briskly out of the office.

"Shack, I want you to remain here, in case he resists arrest. Please ask Patricia to get a clerk to bring a vial of veritaserum from the store room, and then return here and stand by." she said. She turned to Regulus, unsure of what to tell the civilian to do. She saw that he had his wand out and a predatory gleam in his eyes. "Regulus, this is Ministry business, and at no point are you to intervene. Since you are the source of this information I shall permit you to remain in the room, as a bystander. Do _not_ interfere with the proceedings." Regulus nodded, but kept his wand out anyway. He knew that the minute Crouch saw his son he'd know that the game was up, and that a cornered animal was the most dangerous of all.

They waited in tense silence, Kingsley having informed Patricia about the veritaserum, and assumed a stance near the door, wand drawn but held loosely at his side. A minute later there was a knock on the door, and Patricia walked in with the vial, as well as a form that needed Madam Bones signature. Dashing off her initials distractedly, she dismissed Patricia. The less civilians put in danger the better.

"Patricia dear, take a half hour break. You can resume your work after that." Nodding in pleasant surprise, the pretty blonde walked out of the office. Regulus sat, tense and ready to explode into action. He didn't have to wait long.

The door flew open, and Bartemius Crouch Sr. stalked in, his robes pristine and his mustache razor straight. Scrimgeour was behind him, his wand trained on the unknowing man's back. "Amelia, what is the meaning of-" he trailed off and his eyes bugged out as he took in his constrained son lying stunned on the floor and the unhappy house-elf standing beside him. His eye twitched, and he didn't move. "I surrender." he said quietly, keeping both his hands visible. Shack walked forward, his wand trained on the man. "Take your wand out of your pocket and place it on the floor in front of you, nice and slowly." he said as he advanced, not taking his attention off Crouch for a second.

With slow deliberate motions, Crouch reached into his robes and pulled out his wand, holding it between two fingers, before letting it drop with a clatter to the floor. He was well aware of Auror tactics, and knew he didn't stand the chance of getting off a spell before he got stunned or worse.

Kingsley kicked the wand into the corner of the room, and motioned for Crouch to take the other visitor seat. With a deep sigh and a curious glance at Regulus, he sat, ramrod straight with no expression on his face. Shack shot off a variation of the _incarcerous_ spell, which bound Crouch's hands behind him and made it impossible for him to get out of the chair.

It was Amelia who stepped forward to make the formal arrest. "Bartemius Crouch, you are under arrest for aiding and abetting a known criminal to escape from prison, and for controlling said prisoner with the use of an unforgivable curse. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be held against you in the court of the Wizengamot." Barty hung his head, half thankful that his ordeal was over. It had been hell keeping his son hidden and under his control without anyone finding out and the stress had slowly been eating up at him.

Regulus studied the man, with a little pity. The bonds of love and duty had forced the man to do unspeakable things, but he couldn't forgive him for valuing his career over an innocent man's freedom.

"You will now be interrogated under veritaserum in front of Senior Aurors, including myself and Aurors Shacklebolt and Scrimgeour." she informed him, taking the stopper out of the vial of veritaserum.

He dutifully complied, sticking out his tongue so that she could administer the required three drops. His eyes went glassy and out of focus, as his breathing slowed down and he slumped down in his chair. Bones set up a dicta-quill, which would record the entire questioning session. Since they had three senior Aurors and an independent witness present, it would be admissible as evidence in court.

"What is your name?" she asked him, wanting to check the the serum was working correctly. The dicta-quill faithfully recorded the question, and then skipped a line to record the answer.

"Bartemius Reginald Crouch." he replied in a monotone, as if he didn't really understand the meaning behind the words. Regulus had always found that to be the most chilling part of veritaserum interrogations; the lack of inflection and tone. He had heard unspeakable horrors come out of some of the Death Eater's mouths, with absolutely no tone, no smidgen of guilt or fear or inhibition. He shuddered at the thought of ever having to undergo the serum himself. The things he knew were not the kind of tidbits that should be heard by anyone.

"How did your son come to escape Azkaban?"

"My wife was dying, and she had always loved Barty Jr, despite his crimes. She begged me to allow her to take his place, and allow him the chance to live out his life in peace. She took Polyjuice potion with his hair in it, and gave him Polyjuice potion with one of hers. She was frail and sick, I carried her into the prison for a visit, and carried my son out."

"When did this occur?" she asked, glaring at him fiercely through her monocle. It was a stain on her entire department's reputation that something like this had happened under their very noses.

"Five years ago." he answered, staring away at nothing.

"How did you keep anyone from finding out what you had done?"

"The only people who knew what we had done was the three of us. My wife died in the prison a few days after we made the switch. I kept Jr. under the imperious curse with orders to remain hidden from everyone and anyone that came into the house, save for the house-elf Winky." he paused. "He was instructed to remain under an invisibility cloak at all times and no one was permitted to enter the house without my express permission."

Amelia Bones looked at Regulus, as she asked the next question. "Tell me about the trial of Sirius Orion Black."

"There was no trial." he began. Regulus felt himself relax a little bit. That admission itself would ensure that the matter was looked into. "Sirius Black confessed that he had killed Lily and James Potter when he was arrested. It seemed cut and dried."

"Why did you not seek to confirm the facts with the use of veritaserum?" she asked, glancing at Regulus again. So far, his information had been absolutely correct and she was wondering if his reasoning for why there had been no trial was also correct.

"Sirius Black had found out that my son was a Death Eater. I myself had become aware of the fact a few days before he did. I did not want him asked in court if he was a Death Eater or if he knew anyone who was." Amelia nodded slowly.

Anyone suspected of being a Death Eater had been asked if they knew other Death Eaters, in the hopes of bagging more than one through their testimony. Some like Igor Karkaroff had got off lightly because they named names and put their fellow Death Eaters into prison. That would have definitely been one of the questions put to Sirius Black.

She frowned as it was looking more likely that the man was innocent. They didn't know it for sure, but they definitely had to give him a trial and find out for sure. The man had spent eleven years in a prison cell in the worst prison on earth. She felt her throat get tight with pity as she thought of how betrayed he must have felt.

Sirius had been a Hitwizard, and as such fell under her department. She felt as if she had let down one of her own by not asking these questions earlier. She had been the Deputy Head of the Department when he had been arrested.

"Do you regret your crimes?" she asked him, more out of curiosity than anything. By his own admitted use of an unforgivable, he was going to Azkaban for the rest of his natural life.

"I never should have listened to my wife. It was her dying wish but I knew the boy was evil. He is evil. I wish I had never done it." The veritaserum was wearing off, and the last part was obviously a heartfelt admission. There was nothing more to be said.

"Take them both to the holding cells." she told Shack and Scrimgeour, indicating father and son.

"I have to go explain to the Minister why I have arrested the Head of a Ministry Department." she said with a small shudder, anticipating how awful that meeting was going to be. Fudge hated bad press, and this was going to make the Ministry look really bad. They were going to be pilloried by the press.

She sighed as they left the room, floating the two men with them after disillusioning them. It would not do to be seen taking the Head of a Department and his supposedly dead son into the holding cells. The longer they had to formulate exactly what they were going to tell the press and the public the better.

Amelia sat at her desk, staring down at it blindly for a moment. She felt shaken up by the facts revealed by the interrogation.

Regulus looked at her with sympathy. He did not want to trade places with her when she had to tell this to Fudge.

"My brother did _not_ betray the Potter's." he said sincerely, looking at her. "I'm inclined to believe you, - Regulus." she breathed heavily. "This is still going to be an unimaginable tangle to sort out." Regulus nodded. He could only imagine the kind of bureaucratic red tape she would have to navigate to sort out this mess.

She shot off another patronus, summoning Auror Gawain Robbards. "Gawain," she said as he walked in. "Please go to Azkaban. Have them transfer the prisoner Sirius Orion Black to the Ministry holding cells, to await a trial." She was filling out paper work as she spoke, the Auror was standing to attention. Apparently Madam Bones ran a very tight ship. She handed him the papers, which he took without comment or question before leaving the room.

"Please excuse me, Regulus. I have to now go and face the music. As I'm sure you recall, Minister Fudge is not the most reasonable man to talk to." she said with a wry smile. Regulus smiled back at her, happy that there was some progress made in Sirius' case.

"I do have one more bit of information that you will find interesting." he said quietly as he stood up.

"Please. By all means, give me more work and more trouble to deal with." she told him with a frown, only half joking. Since his return from being presumed dead, this man had caused a lot of controversy and she was not looking forward to hearing more.

"Sirius did not betray the Potters, but I know who did." he said simply. She nodded slowly. She was first going to confirm that Sirius Black was innocent, and then revisit this conversation.

"Let me get Sirius on record under veritaserum confirming that he did not betray them, and I shall be asking you for a name so that the person can be apprehended if they're still alive." she assured him.

"He has already been apprehended, Amelia." said Regulus, causing her to look up sharply. "Now see here, Regulus. You cannot take the law into your own hands. I have sympathy for you and for the fate of your brother but if you have broken the law -" He raised his hands to stop her spiel.

"If after the interrogation you feel that I was out of line, you may reprimand me then. Let me know what my brother has to say." he said, a little coldly, affronted that she had told him off for capturing Pettigrew. He gave her some leeway since she didn't know the circumstances behind his capture. He gave her a stiff bow, receiving a jerky nod in return, before walking out of her office and back to the atrium. It was time to meet Dumbledore and collect the rat. Justice was about to be served.


	16. Chapter 16

Regulus decided to Floo into The Three Broomsticks, since he had missed breakfast at the school to be on time for his meeting with Amelia. He was looking forward to some good pub grub, as he walked out of the fireplace.

The pub had just a few patrons, all eating and talking quietly, some reading the Daily Prophet. He walked to a booth and sat down, waiting for Rosmerta to take his order.

The buxom proprietor walked over, glancing at the handsome young man that had taken a seat. She read the papers, and could deduce that the well-dressed gentleman with the gray eyes could only be the younger Black brother, recently returned from the "dead".

"What will it be?" she asked him with a small smile. She had a soft corner for handsome young men. Merlin knew that they had one for her as well. She couldn't even count the number of nervous school boys and recent graduates that had asked her out on dates.

"Just a usual breakfast fry up, please. Eggs, sunny side up, some bacon and toast." She wrote down his order.

"Tea?"

"Please." he replied, giving her a smile. He had always liked Rosmerta. She had turned into a valuable ally in the last timeline, giving shelter to people who needed to stay away from the Death Eaters.

The basement of the pub had turned into a safe house of sorts. She nodded now, and sashayed away to get his food. Regulus looked around, wishing that he had a copy of the paper. He had to remember to subscribe to it.

The prophet usually printed rubbish, but it was always good to be in the know as to what exactly they were saying.

His food came, piping hot and he dug into it with gusto. A few minutes later he wiped his mouth on a napkin, paid his bill along with a generous tip and with a smile at Rosmerta, and doff of an imaginary hat, he decided to walk back to Hogwarts, enjoying the clear day.

Things were going pretty well at the moment, and he was looking forward to seeing Sirius after so long. He was determined to build a relationship with the man this time.

It was going to be a little confusing, given that he looked like Regulus and now was technically Sirius' brother, but he was sure they would manage. He entered the Hogwarts gate, knowing that Dumbledore would be alerted immediately to the fact.

He saw Hagrid on the far side of the lake, doing something with a log. He reminded himself again to go an introduce himself to the friendly half-giant.

Nearing the steps of the school, his heart leaped into his throat as he saw the first year Gryffindors walking towards them, probably on their way to Herbology or a flying lesson. '

He saw Hermione subtly indicate him to Neville and Ron, and the three of them change their course and head towards him. His heart thumping, he watched his friends walk towards them, acutely aware of how tiny and young and innocent they looked. He felt a pang as he realized that he would probably never be friends with them in this timeline.

He knew he would eventually make his peace with that because they were alive and that definitely counted for something, but at the moment it broke his heart as they walked towards him.

He hadn't realized that he had stopped walking.

"Hello." said Hermione politely. "You're Regulus Black, aren't you?" she asked curiously, looking at him. He gave her a small smile though his heart was thumping painfully. He was absolutely not ready for this.

"Yes, I am." he croaked, having to clear his throat a few times before he could speak. "And you are?"

"I'm Hermione Granger, and these are my friends, Ronald Weasley and Neville Longbottom." she said brightly, indicating the two boys. Regulus hid a smile as he saw Ron grimace when she introduced him by his full name.

He was happy to hear her call Neville a friend. "Nice to meet you three." he said, as calmly as he could, and made to move past them.

"Wait, sir, please!" cried Hermione. Trying to stifle his mixture of alarm and amusement at Hermione calling him sir, he turned back to them questioningly.

"We were just wondering if you could tell us how Harry Potter is doing?" asked Neville timidly. He was still shy, but the fact that he was moving around with the other two said that he would probably grow out of his shell much sooner in this time line.

Looking kindly at his friend he said "Harry is fine, Neville. Thank you for asking about him. I shall pass on your regards to him when next I see him."

Getting a small grateful nod from all three of them, he strode up the steps and into the castle, where he leaned against the wall, wiping the sudden tears that sprang into his eyes. It had felt amazingly good and amazingly horrible to see them again, whole and young, innocent and looking forward to all life could offer them. It just would be a life without him in it.

That realization was not going to sink in easily, he knew. He collected himself, and made his way towards the Headmaster's office. Dumbledore was placing thoughts into his pensive when Regulus knocked on the door. "Come in, Regulus." called out Dumbledore, the elder wand at his temple.

Determined to find out how he always managed to know who was outside his door, Regulus walked into the office. "How was your meeting, my boy?" asked Dumbledore, siphoning off another memory into his pensieve.

"Productive." he said succinctly, sitting down in one of the visitors chairs. "Madam Bones was most grateful to get one Bartemius Crouch Jr. into custody. She got Senior thrown in for free." Dumbledore turned back to him with a smile.

"I'm glad that worked out. That's one more Death Eater taken away from Voldemort. From what you told me, he was instrumental in his return." Regulus nodded. It was true that Crouch Jr had played a major part in resurrecting Voldemort. Pettigrew had definitely done his bit as well. He wondered how the self-proclaimed Lord was going to attempt to return this time.

His Horcruxes had taken a bit of a hit. The Diadem and the Locket and the one inside Harry were already destroyed. That left the Gaunt ring, Nagini, the Diary and the seventh and last part of his soul that was currently in a wraith form to deal with. He was going to deal with the ring as soon as he had seen Sirius free.

"I've come here about Pettigrew." he told Dumbledore, who was putting his pensieve away into it's cabinet. Dumbledore nodded as he took the other visitor chair.

"He is still stunned, in the unbreakable cage. Have you informed Madam Bones of his crimes?"

"Not in so many words, but I did let her know that I had the person responsible for my parents deaths in custody." he replied. "She wasn't too happy with me taking the law into my own hands." he added dryly.

Dumbledore nodded decisively. "It is a slippery slope, Harry. I myself found myself wandering that path in my youth. There is a reason that society has given powers to a governing body." 

"I know that." Harry waved him off, not really in the mood for a lecture on morality and ethics.

"Its personal with Pettigrew, Albus." he said, with sad eyes. "I spared his life in the previous timeline, and he went on to kill Remus with the silver hand that Voldemort bestowed upon him." his eyes were haunted as he remembered the wound, and how they couldn't save Remus once the silver had spread through his system.

The agony of watching their friend die a horrible death while they could do nothing about it, not even ease his pain as most potions didn't word for lycanthropes. He clenched his teeth.

"I will _not_ let him do any more damage. He ruined the lives of four of the people I love the most in this world, while pretending all the while to be their friend. He _betrayed_ their trust! After everything they did for him! My mother! My father! Sirius! Remus!" he cried in anguish laced with an unbelievable amount of anger. He cracked his knuckles menacingly, unbeknownst to himself.

"There's nothing I would like more than to take the sword and chop his head off, not even allowing him to return to his human form. He deserves to die like the fuc- rat he is." he bit off the curse word at the last moment, knowing that the Headmaster would not approve of it.

His portrait had gone on and on about the kind of language he had gotten used to using around Ron and Severus in the last timeline, while they planned their strategies.

Abusing the Death Eaters had been their small way of venting their frustration, but they had been constantly chided by McGonagall, Hermione and the ever verbose portrait of the very man who stood in front of him.

"I can't imagine the amount of anger you have towards him, Harry, yet he must face the due process of the law." Harry nodded tiredly.

"I know that, Albus. Yet you have no idea how hard it is to curtail my initial reflexes to just murder the cretin as he lies." he said with a grimace. "In fact I wouldn't even term it murder, but _justice_."

Albus Dumbledore listened to the vehemence in the young man's voice, with worry in his heart and showing in his eyes. It was exactly this kind of vengeful behavior that led people into the Dark. He knew from Madam Pomfrey that the young man in front of him was one of the most powerful wizards alive at the moment, perhaps even more powerful that he himself.

It would not do to destroy Voldemort only to have him replaced with someone else with murder in their hearts. He decided that he would have a chat with him about it before too long.

"You despise him." he said quietly. "Loyalty is everything to you isn't it, Harry?" he asked, looking at him seriously.

"Everything." he said heavily.

"Please remember that above all, you are loyal to the _light,_ Harry." he urged quietly. "Severus spoke to me about your intention to fight fire with fire but I must urge you to reconsider. We cannot stoop to their level."

Harry looked at him levelly. He knew that it was a valid fear that the man expressed, and sometimes he himself didn't know how he didn't go berserk and quietly assassinate all the people who had committed crimes in the previous timeline. Given his power, training and foreknowledge, it would be quite easy to do away with people on that list.

He had no compunction taking their lives. All he had to do was remember his friends and what had been done to each of them by the long list of enemies they had.

The thought of his friends brought his mind out of the dark cloud of anger and wrath it was entering. His mouth in a grim line, he reminded himself that he would like to still be worthy in their eyes at the end of this ordeal. Becoming a blood-thirsty, vengeful person wouldn't really endear him to people whose opinion he truly valued, even though they themselves didn't know it.

"Friendship, love and loyalty mean everything to me, Albus. If there is _anything_ keeps me from doing what I'm so sorely tempted to do it will be the fall in the eyes of those I love." he said quietly, remembering the disapproving look on Dumbledore's and McGonagall's faces when he had decapitated Quirrell and how it had made him feel.

He knew that he would be able to bear such horrified looks from Ron, Hermione or Neville, or Fred, George and Tonks, Remus, Sirius and other friends who had seen him at his best and seen him at his worst in the previous timeline. They had all become unbelievably close.

A family was all that he had ever wanted, and together they had forged one based on the bonds of shared combat, blood spilled, friends lost, enemies vanquished. They all loved each other fiercely, and it hurt that none of them knew him now. He was just a stranger that evoked their curiosity.

He sighed heavily. "They -" he broke off, fighting his emotions. "None of them know me." he said with a catch in his throat, hating that he sounded so weak, but knowing that the amazingly understanding old man in front of him would see it as a strength instead of a weakness. He fought the tears that sprung to his eyes.

"Do you know what it's like to be alone, Albus? To be _truly_ alone among people who you know almost as well as you know yourself?"

Albus shook his head in sorrow. "No, I do not. I don't think anyone knows what it is you feel, Harry. I know that the wizarding world owes you a debt that they will never know is owed, one that will never be repaid. You have my thanks." he said sincerely.

"I've spent most of my life trying to make the world a better place, in penance for the few ideas that I know Gellert took from me during his rise to power. I _know_ in my heart that you're destined to safeguard that and make sure that it doesn't fall apart. Be strong, my boy. It isn't fair on you, but be strong. For all our sake." he said, with quiet empathy.

Harry gave him a tight, pained smile. The words helped a little, but they were mere words. He sighed again.

"Let me take Pettigrew and head back to the Ministry." he said, standing up abruptly. He didn't want to be overcome with emotion any more than he already had. Dumbledore nodded, and wandlessly and wordlessly summoned the cage from within a cabinet. Nodding at the Headmaster, he picked up the cage and walked out of the office, lost in his thoughts.

Regulus transfigured the cage into a marble as he walked through the school, lost in his morose thoughts of loneliness and of being alone in a crowd. He walked out the main doors of the castle and down the path to the gate. He reminded himself to speak to Dumbledore about leaving a small apparation point unwarded in the Chamber of Secrets so that they could move in and out of Hogwarts quickly.

He was startled out of his reverie by Hagrid, who he been walking towards without realizing it. The man was wearing his work clothes, which were hairy and made out of the brown fur of some unknown creature. It must have been a large creature for it to provide skin for a jerkin for the half-giant.

"You tha' Black?" he said loudly, wiping his hands on the front of his trousers, and holding one large dustbin lid sized hand out to Regulus.

His face lighting in a smile, he drove away his morose thoughts and shook hands with Hagrid. "Yes, I am Regulus Black, and you are?"

Hagrid smiled at him, his beard moving and his eyes sparkling with warmth. "Aye, I remember yeh from yer Hogwarts days, though we've never met afore, I think. I am Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of Keys and Grounds here at Hogwarts. Pleasure ter meet yer."

Regulus returned the smile. "The pleasure is mine Mr. Hagrid." he said, wondering at the sheer amount of joy he felt talking to Hagrid. He had after all, been his first friend in the wizarding world, and had bought Hedwig for him. There were some debts that could never be repaid.

"Call me Hagrid." he said, with a dismissive wave. "Everybody does. Anyway I'll be on my way, Mr. Black, welcome back." he smiled through his bushy beard.

"Then it's Regulus, Hagrid. It was nice meeting you." Regulus smiled, a genuine smile lighting his face for almost the first time since he had arrived in this timeline. With a small wave, he continued down the path to the gates, where the stone winged boars had stood for a millennium.

As he walked through the wards, Regulus apparated mid-stride, to the Ministry approved apparation point close to the Ministry of Magic building. It was time to set his Godfather free.

He walked quickly to Madam Bones office, noticing a drastic increase in the number of inter-office memos flying overhead, and several wizards and witches moving about urgently, some with files and clipboards.

The Auror office was in disarray, with people running about and chattering excitedly. He supposed the arrest might have been made known to them. He knocked on Madam Bones' office door, receiving a sharply barked "Come." in response.

He walked in, to find Madam Bones talking to Kingsley Shacklebolt, and Gawain Robards. "That will be all." she told them crisply, seeing who her visitor was. They merely nodded and walked out, giving Regulus a cursory once over as they passed him.

He waited until the door was firmly shut behind him, before making his way to the visitor seat in front of her desk, which seemed to have even more papers than they had earlier.

"Sirius Black has been transferred to the Ministry holding cells, and I have asked Minister Fudge to call an emergency meeting of the Wizengamot." she informed him, as she took her seat behind the desk.

"I have no idea how long it will take for him to act on it. As of now, his staff are scrambling around trying to find out _why_ I've called for an emergency meeting." she added wryly.

Regulus nodded in understanding. He knew Fudge, and knew that the bumbling idiot was quite capable of delaying every single action and drawing it out agonizingly slowly, all in an attempt to make sure that when the dust settled, his power was intact, or preferably increased.

They sat in silence for a minute, contemplating each other. She cleared her throat.

"Mr. Black – Regulus. I must voice my concern that you have taken the law into your own hands. The apprehension of fugitives remains the sole purview of the Magical Law Enforcement agents that work within this office. If you have broken the law, I promise you that I will ensure you are prosecuted."

He sat with a grim look on his face. "Amelia, I don't expect you to understand where I'm coming from, but let's just say that the person who betrayed my – brother, as well as the Potter's - was a flight risk." he silently cursed himself, as he had almost slipped up.

Pettigrew's crimes against his parents were always foremost on his mind, followed by him framing Sirius.

"This person was uniquely placed to find out what is going on in the wizarding world, and would have disappeared without a trace if there was a whiff of Sirius being released in the news, or through the constant rumors that plague our world." he looked at her seriously.

"You know as well as I do that someone somewhere would speak about what is about to transpire, and I could not leave the culprit in a position to either disappear or to cause harm to innocents."

She pursed her lips, but didn't say anything. He had some valid points, but the law enforcer in her could not condone the work of a vigilante, no matter how good his intentions. She decided to place it aside for now.

"Where is the person now?" she asked him. He reached into his robes.

She watched warily, as he removed a marble from his pocket and cast a _finite_ at it. It was replaced with a cage, with what looked like a rodent in it.

Grimacing with distaste, she leaned slightly away from the cage. She had always disliked rats. "What is that, Regulus?" she asked.

Regulus looked at her intently. "This is an animagus, Amelia. An animagus by the name of Peter Pettigrew, Order of Merlin, First class." he couldn't help the sneer that had appeared on his face as he named the traitor. He was fighting his impulse to unleash himself on the rat with all his might.

Amelia Bones was absolutely shocked. "Pettigrew was killed by Sirius Black!" she said faintly, looking from the cage back to Regulus' face. She was of course, completely uncertain, as this man had proved that he knew what he was talking about.

Now she watched him shake his head. "He framed Sirius, Amelia. Pettigrew was the secret keeper for the Potter's. It was a last minute switch, aimed to throw off the Death Eaters and Voldemort." he refrained from curling his lip in disgust as she gave an involuntary little shudder at the name.

She nodded slowly. "He shall be questioned under veritaserum, and we shall get to the bottom of this. I know you are eager for this to proceed, Regulus, but I must warn you that it could take some time."

Regulus stood. He well knew the way the Ministry functioned and he was aware that it would take a minimum of a week for them to conduct this business. But there was something he needed to do.

"I would like to speak to my brother, Amelia. I want him to know that he is going to receive the justice that he should have eleven years ago." he spoke in a tone that brooked no arguments, hoping against hope that she wouldn't deny him.

She nodded briskly, standing up as well. As they walked to the door, she laid a hand on Regulus' shoulder.

"I must warn you, Regulus, that eleven years in Azkaban can leave a person...changed." she said, looking sadly into his eyes. "He may not be the man you remember." she said. Regulus smiled at her, to her astonishment.

"I have a feeling he will be _exactly_ the man I remember, Amelia. Thank you for your concern." he held his arm out in a chivalrous gesture for her to precede him.

Looking at him thoughtfully, she led the way through the office, and to the holding cells. A few perfunctory forms later, she held out a clipboard for him to sign.

He signed "Regulus Black" with a flourish and handed it back. She led him to a cell, and using her wand, muttered a password of some sort, and then held her palm to the door. There was a flash of blue light, and the cell door swung open. Regulus' breath caught in his chest as he saw him.

He sat on the floor in the corner, his back against the wall. His long hair was dank and matter, hanging well down to his waist. He had a long beard, that reached the middle of his chest, stringy and filthy. His robes were the standard issued Azkaban gray, fraying and covered in filth. His head was resting in his hands when he heard the door open. He looked up.

Gray eyes met gray eyes.

"Sirius?" asked Regulus hoarsely, almost overcome with the emotions of seeing his Godfather alive again. Sirius stood slowly, and made his shaky, unsteady way forward. He tottered up to Regulus, his eyes wild. "Who-?" he choked. "Who...?" he began again, as his arms gripped Regulus convulsively around the shoulders, before they relaxed, and he fell to the floor.

Sirius Black had just fainted dead away, with loving hands cradling his head before he hit the ground.


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: Thanks to all of you have have been reviewing it is extremely gratifying to know that you guys are enjoying this fic of mine. I've got input from several people to break up the text for easier reading and I've begun attempting that from the previous chapter on. I hope it makes for easier reading. Please keep the suggestions/tips/constructive criticism coming, as it helps me develop my writing skills. Hope you're all enjoying the story. Happy reading. :}**

Regulus cradled Sirius' head as he knelt over him. Madam Bones pointed her wand at the emaciated man, muttering " _ennervate"_ under her breath. Sirius raised his head groggily, staring at Regulus again.

Looking like he might faint again he breathed "Reggie?" incredulously, blinking rapidly, totally unable to accept what he was seeing.

Realizing that he couldn't very well reveal himself in front of the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. He simply nodded, his throat tight.

Sirius scrambled away from him backward, until his back was against the wall again.

"No!" he uttered wildly. "This is some kind of trick! You...you're dead!" his eyes were wild, staring around the cell he was in like a cornered animal.

"It's a trifle hard to explain, Sirus." Said Regulus patiently, knowing that he had to control his emotions because the man in front of him was certainly unable to. Using his Occlumency shields to dampen his joy and the tears that threatened to spill from his eyes, he turned back to Amelia.

"I know that it puts you in a difficult position, but could we please get some privacy?" he asked her pleadingly, knowing that it was completely unacceptable according to Auror procedure.

Madam Bones was emotional herself, remembering the cocky, swaggering young wizard who had been one of the best hit-wizards they had reduced to this craven and cowering being. She knew that what she was about to do was against all regulations that were in place, yet she was feeling exceedingly bad for both young men.

"Your wand." she held her hand out to Regulus. He handed his wand over with no hesitation. "I also want your word that you will not attempt to help him escape." she said.

Regulus looked sincerely into her eyes. "Amelia, given the circumstances, and knowing how this is going to play out, I have no intention of putting that in jeopardy. Eleven years he's been incarcerated. A short while more away from the influence of the Dementors is not going to tempt me to try anything. You have my word."

Nodding her head, she stepped out of the cell, and locked it once again, just for good measure.

Sirius kept staring at Regulus, his mouth gaping, unable to utter a word. Regulus sat down heavily on the bed that was in the cell.

"Sirius, this is going to be a complicated explanation, one that I would have preferred to give you under different circumstances, but as it stands this will have to do."

He sat silent, contemplating his Godfather, who was still cowering against the wall. "It's a long and complicated story, but the essence is that I have captured Peter Pettigrew, and I am going to clear your name." he stated.

He was eventually going to divulge his true identity to his Godfather, but knew that with the veritaserum interrogation that Sirius was soon going to be put under, it was better if he didn't know the truth as of yet.

"You've caught Peter?" Sirius asked, a bit of fire in his eyes as he looked up. Seeing the nod, he had a slightly triumphant look on his face. "Let me at him." he growled, trying to use the wall's support to stand up.

Jumping up and helping Sirius to the bed, Regulus made a quelling motion with his hands. "None of that." he said sharply. "Going off half-cocked is what got you in this mess in the first place!" he knew that he sounded a little harsh, but there was no better way to impress upon his impetuous Godfather just what was at stake here.

"He has already been brought in for questioning, and your name will be cleared." he swallowed a little as he said the next bit. He would love a go at the rat himself. "Pettigrew will face the full force of the law, and be punished as he should be."

Sirius looked a little chastened by the telling off. After all, he had had years to tell himself exactly the same thing. His reflexive anger led to him going after Peter in the first place, and he had had years to regret that decision. Years in which his Godson was left alone, orphaned and bereft of any kind of family. He swallowed and nodded, his throat tight.

"Nothing half-cocked." he solemnly promised, a sincere look in his haunted eyes.

"How are you even _alive?_ " he asked in shock, turning slightly on the bed to face the younger man. "The last news we had was that Voldemort himself had murdered you, because you wanted to leave the Death Eaters."

"I absolutely wanted to leave the Death Eaters." he affirmed, gratified at seeing the warmth in his "brother's" eyes at that admission.

"The truth of what happened is another long story, that I shall definitely be recounting to you very soon. As of now I wanted to tell you that it is most probable that you are going to receive that trial that you never did, and be freed soon." He felt his heart ache as he saw the pathetic hope flare in his Godfather's eyes.

Merlin knew how harsh and unforgiving Azkaban was, with the Dementors sucking the happiness out of its inmates. He knew that Sirius had fared better than most, given his animagus form, but the man was still a wreck. He felt good knowing that he had saved his Godfather two extra years in that hell hole.

The clanking of the lock, and the creak of the cell door let them know that their moment of privacy had come to an end. Regulus stood, and helped Sirius stand as well. Placing his hands on the bony shoulders of his Godfather, he looked into his eyes.

"You're going to be free soon. We shall sit down and have a long talk about...everything." he told him, before pulling the man into a rough hug.

Sirius held on to him like he was his life-line, which in many ways, he was. His breath sawing in his throat, he choked out "Thank you! I can't tell you what this means to me..."

Regulus pulled away, giving him a firm nod and shake of the hand, before exiting the cell before he completely lost his hard pressed composure. Madam Bones locked the door behind them, as Regulus leaned against the wall, unashamed tears streaking down his face.

He scrubbed his hands over his face, taking a few deep, calming breaths. Madam Bones conjured a handkerchief for him, which he accepted gratefully. He wiped his face, and then cast a wandless _evanesco_ on it.

Bones raised her eyebrows at this display of wandless magic. "Apparently it was of no use confiscating your wand for the duration." she remarked wryly. Regulus gave her a weak smile.

"I wouldn't have jeopardized his release in any case Amelia, I just needed to talk to him. To give him a small measure of hope and light after so many years of darkness."

Her face fell again, as she contemplated how horrible it must have been for an innocent man to languish in their prison. It was not a deserved fate and it rankled that such a gross miscarriage of justice had occurred during her tenure at the DMLE.

"We'll get him released ASAP, Regulus. You have my word." she intoned, meaning it one hundred percent. Nobody deserved what had happened to Sirius Black.

Nodding to her gratefully, Regulus made his way out of the Auror holding cell area, through their office and back to the Ministry atrium. He used the Floo, going directly to Albus' office this time.

The Headmaster wasn't in his office when he arrived, so he made his way to the guest quarters, to take a nap. He felt completely washed out after the emotional time he had had meeting Sirius. He still had a lot of planning to do.

Around dinner time, Regulus woke up and took a shower. Donning one of his new robes, he made his way down to the Great Hall, where the mummer of conversation reached him well before he entered the doors.

Ignoring the looks he was getting from the students, he made his way to the head table, where he was gratified to find his place on the left of Dumbledore set, and waiting for him. He smiled at the staff politely as he sat down, wanting to eat his dinner as he was starving.

He loaded his plate with roast and potatoes, and was reaching for a bread roll when Dumbledore addressed him.

"Regulus, my boy, remind me how you fared on your Defense Against the Dark Arts N.E.W.T when you were here at Hogwarts?"

Having a decent suspicion on where this was going, Regulus took his time to answer while he buttered his roll.

"I got an O." he replied quietly, giving the Headmaster a significant look to ensure he understood that he was talking as Harry. The Headmaster nodded.

"I find myself in quite a quandary, as it is the beginning of the school year, and I am bereft of a Defense Professor. I was wondering if perhaps you would like to take up the post?"

Although he had known where the Headmaster was going with his leading question, he was still unsure of whether or not it would be a good idea for him to do that. He knew that he was an excellent teacher, and he knew his subject matter like nobody else, but he also knew that he had a task ahead of him, that he didn't want to put on the back burner.

This wasn't something he could openly discuss in public, so he merely inclined his head. "I shall think upon it, Headmaster." he said quietly. The meal passed quickly after that, and students began making their way in two's and three's out of the Great Hall.

Spotting Snape heading out of the Hall, he made his excuses to those still at the table and hurried after the sallow potions master to the dungeons.

He caught up with him just before he entered his private quarters. "Severus!" he called out, walking quickly down the corridor. Snape turned, and saw him walking towards him. He opened the wall that led to his chambers and stood aside, feeling oddly pleased at the thought of company.

"Come in." he said, a little stiffly, as he was unused to entertaining.

"Drink?" he asked, repeating his question from the other night that they had sat down here.

"Please." said Regulus, taking the seat that was his usual place in Snape's quarters.

Pouring them each two fingers of Firewhiskey, Severus took a sip of his drink and sat back with a small sigh. "Merlin bless old Balthazar Ogden." he said, raising his glass in a small, mock toast.

Regulus smiled over his glass, and raised it slightly before taking a sip. He remembered having a long conversation with Severus about Balthazar Ogden, the first brewer of Ogden's Old Firewhiskey.

It was rumored to be matured in Pine wood barrels of wand quality, which were toasted in Dragon Fire and embued with deep magic. The exact recipe was a family secret, jealously hoarded by the Ogden family, who were very well to do, as was to be expected.

Legend said that the man had been a potioneer who had a penchant for getting smashed every now and then, and had vowed to make a drink that would help him get there faster. He had apparently enslaved a dragon using the Imperious curse, which had not been banned back then. The toasted barrels were still in use today, if their advertising was to be believed.

It had been an entertaining and educating evening. One of many that he had shared with Severus in the previous timeline. Tonight was going to be a little more unpleasant, given what he was going to discuss with the man.

They sat drinking their whiskey for a few moments, before Harry took the plunge. He knew that Severus wasn't one for small talk, so he got right to the point.

"Sirius will be released soon, in all likelihood." he said blandly, looking at his glass, but watching the man in his peripheral vision. He saw the sneer that came on to the man's face almost instantaneously.

He sighed. "I know that the two of you have history -" he was cut of rudely by Snape.

"To be absolutely frank, my history with Black is none of your concern. I'll thank you to butt out." he said bluntly, downing the rest of his drink and standing up to pour another.

"Nevertheless I will say my piece, and then leave well enough alone." Said Harry firmly, placing his drink down.

"I know that my father and his friends behaved like absolute toe-rags toward you when you were all in school, and I also know that you _gave_ as good as you got." Snape sneered at him as he resumed his place.

"Aye. I gave as good as I got when any one of them was _Gryffindor_ enough to attack me one-on-one." he sipped his drink, an ugly look on his face. "Your father and his _toe-rags_ rarely did that though." he added snarkily.

"I know." said Harry quietly. "I also know that Sirius endangered your life, and that my father saved you."

Snape's sneer was on full force as he sipped his drink again quickly, spilling some whiskey down the front of his robes. Wiping at it irritably with his hands, he then pulled out his wand and handled the mess.

"I hope you don't have some romantic idea of your father being a hero on a white horse." he snorted. "He was saving himself from expulsion or worse just as much as he was saving me."

"My father saved your life because it was the right thing to do." said Harry, recalling discussing this with the Portrait of James Potter in the previous timeline.

"Sirius was completely out of line, and had his little "prank" been successful, it would have placed _Remus_ in an extremely uncomfortable position in front of the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures. There as more at stake than any of them realized." his outrage at Sirius' behavior seemed to calm the Potions master down just a little bit. He still sneered, but he didn't say anything.

"Sirius has always been impulsive, impetuous and sometimes plain spoiled." said Harry quietly, hating that he was talking about his Godfather this way, but also knowing that it was absolutely true. "He was a child then. He has since gone through a lot."

Severus' onyx eyes dimmed a little as he stared pensively into his glass. "Calling eleven years in Azkaban "a lot" is a bit of an understatement." he said quietly. "I was happy to know that he was suffering there, in the belief that he had betrayed Lily."

He made no bones of the fact that James' death left him remorseless. Harry didn't hold it against him.

"Still," he continued, swirling the amber-gold liquid around in his cup. "Since he is in fact innocent, I must say that in retrospect his fate was undeserved."

Harry breathed a sigh of relief, but it was short lived.

"If you think that my saying that means that I will welcome him back with open arms, you have another thing coming." he spat.

"I merely ask that you be civil to him." said Harry leaning forward earnestly. "You are both fighting on the same side, against the same darkness. You don't have to be bosom brothers, but at least let the past be the past."

Snape sat silent, looking into his glass. "I'll think about it." he finally said. With a small smile, Harry sat back, indicating that he had said all he was going to on the matter.

They sat in silence, sipping their drinks. Their silence wasn't as comfortable as it usually was, but it was a start.

"Do you have any ideas for how you are going to infiltrate the DoM? Or has the burning issue of Sirius Black relegated that out of your mind?" he asked suddenly.

"I have a few ideas, yes. But yeah, I have got slightly sidetracked by Sirius' case." he sipped his drink thoughtfully. "Truth be told I don't think the Ministry is going to be in any shape to be wondering about the disappearance of a school boy even if it is Harry Potter."

Snape merely arched an eyebrow at that. "I think you underestimate the wizarding appreciation for your contribution to the fall of the Dark Lord. _You_ , whether you like it or not, stand as a beacon of hope...a hero to the general public." he said this a little sarcastically, with his usual sneer just below its normal standards.

Harry knew from the other timeline that one of the reasons Snape had despised him in the previous timeline, even besides his dislike for James Potter, was the fact that he felt that his fame was undeserved.

Now, as he had then, he had to convince the man that he himself completely agreed with that notion.

"The _general public_ have no idea that there is nothing special about me." he said in an offhand manner.

"If anyone should be venerated and celebrated its my parents. Especially my mother." he added quietly.

Snape gave him an inscrutable look. "Before I met you, and before I had the chance to speak to you, I would have been one who whole heartedly agreed with the masses, loath as I am to admit it." he said wryly. "However recent events have gone to show that you are somewhat _special_." he said it with slight disdain, but Harry could tell that he meant it. He inclined his head in acknowledgment.

Coming from Severus Snape that was high praise indeed.

"Nevertheless, I think the Ministry is going to have their hands full explaining to the Public why they've arrested the Head of International Magical Cooperation, and how it comes to be that his son is alive and out of Azkaban, and how an innocent scion of a Pureblood house was wrongly imprisoned for the last eleven years."

Snape snorted. "When you put it like that, it looks like they're going to be up to their necks in explanations. Given the fickle minded public and their lust for scandals the disappearance of one eleven year old boy _may_ just be put on the back burner."

Harry nodded, glad he was not the only one who thought so.

"Still, I would suggest having the potion ready, so that the Headmaster does not need to answer uncomfortable questions." He said as he stood, in an unmistakable but unspoken request for Harry to leave.

He stood as well and made his way to the wall. "I shall make sure that it is prioritized as soon as my Godfather is walking among the free again." he assured Snape as he walked out, and made his way back to the guest quarters.

The next morning found Regulus among the first few in the Great Hall for breakfast, post his usual morning work out. He hadn't had a chance to talk to Dumbledore yet about the DADA teaching position. If he knew one thing about the man, it would be that he would be like a dog with a bone.

He had the inkling of a plan, half formed from the first moment the idea had been spoken. He knew that he would be going to Dumbledore's office post breakfast to discuss it.

Exchanging greetings with the other staff members and sending a small wave towards Hermione, Ron and Neville, Regulus enjoyed his breakfast, looking forward to the day.

The Gryffindor table was in particularly high spirits, and the twins were boisterous as ever. Following McGonagall's disapproving gaze, Regulus saw them, both sporting blue hair and entertaining their house mates with some anecdote that had them in stitches. He smiled. Some things should remain the same.

He glanced around at the rest of the house tables, to look for other people that he had come to know well in the previous timeline.

Of course, Ginny, Luna, Michael Corner and Astoria Greengrass were a few that had yet to come to Hogwarts, but he saw Ernie McMillan, Susan Bones and Hannah Abbott at the Hufflepuff table. His breath caught in his throat as he saw Cedric sitting at the table, talking to some of his classmates, an obvious center of attention.

The boy was in his fourth year, and was probably already making a name for himself as one of the most promising Hufflepuff students to grace these halls in decades. Regulus was determined that this time he would survive to do his house and family proud.

At the Ravenclaw table, he saw Cho sitting next to Marietta, who he had forgiven for her stunt with Umbridge after she had whole heartedly come over to their side in the previous timeline, after her mother had been killed by Death Eaters.

Penelope Clearwater was talking to some students. She had been killed in the previous timeline, breaking Percy's heart, as they had been engaged at the time. It was probably another factor that had led to Percy joining the fight with everything he could muster.

He noticed Loras McLaird as well at the table. Lorcas was currently in his seventh year, and in the previous timeline had started his own organization to fight the Death Eater's, until they had joined together under the Phoenix Banner.

Loras' ancestor had been the Minister of Magic in the nineteen twenties, but had only served one term.

Nevertheless, his family was a of good standing in the wizarding world. He had turned out to be a demon with a wand in his hand, and one of the few who had no compunction using dark magic against the Death Eaters.

Padma Patil sat talking to some of her house and year mates, including Su Li. Both of them had left England shortly after their seventh year, and Regulus had never got to know either of them well.

His gaze drifted over to the Slytherin table. His eyes were immediately drawn to the senior students, many of whom had become Voldemort's first "new" crop of Death Eaters after his second rise. He clenched his fists as he saw Graham Montague talking to another Slytherin, probably describing something related to Quidditch judging by his gestures.

The boy had grown to be a vicious Death Eater, completely devoted to the cause, and a mass murderer, rapist and arsonist. It made Regulus' blood boil to see him sitting here, knowing all the deeds that he was capable of.

Marcus Flint was deep in conversation with Flora and Hestia Carrow. The three of them had all become Death Eaters, Flora and Hestia following in the footsteps of their twin uncle and aunt Amycus and Alecto Carrow, and Marcus Flint joing his father, Caracus Flint in Voldemort's ranks.

He shuddered as he saw the potential criminals eating their breakfast peacefully, and had to remind himself that they had committed no crimes as of yet.

His eyes were then drawn to the youngest prince of Slytherin house, Draco Malfoy, and was slightly taken back to see the boy looking right at him, with narrowed eyes. He had Crabbe and Goyle flanking him, but his attention was completely on the staff table.

He assumed Lucius had told the boy to keep an eye on his cousin who had returned from the dead. He knew that Draco had spirited away his mother in the previous timeline, and they were never seen again.

Now he saw those young stormy gray eyes looking at him with intensity that betrayed a little frank curiosity. He grimaced. Draco Malfoy was for all intents and purposes his _cousin_ in this timeline.

He glanced away, taking in Filch staring around the room in suspicion, probably already trying to find some wrong doing that he could punish the happy students for.

His attention was called back to the table by Dumbledore. "I wonder, my boy, if you've given any thought to our discussion last night about the Professorship?" he asked, while daintily wiping his whiskers with a napkin.

Regulus turned back to him, nodding as he swallowed the last of his toast. Wiping his own mouth, he said "I have thought about it, Headmaster. If we could adjourn to your office after this I would be happy to share it with you."

The Headmaster gave him a convivial nod, and made to rise. "I've quite finished with my breakfast, Regulus. If you would join me in my office once you've completed your meal, let's discuss this."

Regulus nodded, and continued drinking his tea as the Headmaster made his way to his office, flicking his wand on the way and turning the Weasley twins hair bilious green as he passed.

Smirking a little, he turned to see McGonagall roll her eyes a little. Enjoying this little by play between his erstwhile professors, which he had never noticed when he was a student, he gave her a small smile.

"Mr. Black, I would like to have a discussion with you regarding the training of the students who have expressed a desire to become animagus. I would like your input on how to go about it, given your insight."

He smiled at her and nodded. "Please call me Regulus, Professor." he said, refraining from using her nickname in front of the others. He knew that she was big on propriety and proper behavior.

It would be nice to spend some time with Minnie here and rekindle their relationship that she had no idea about. Draining the last few dregs of his tea from his cup, he excused himself and headed to the Headmaster's office.


	18. Chapter 18

Musing the lack of news of Crouch Sr. and Jr's arrests, as well as Sirius' impending trial, Regulus made his way to the Headmaster's office. The prophet had carried no news of import as such, not even a follow up article on Harry Potter's "disappearance". It was more than a little disconcerting.

He walked into Dumbledore's office, looking around. He had spent so much time in this office since coming to this timeline.

Dumbledore was sitting at his desk, humming to himself and sucking on what he assumed was a lemon sherbet. Fawkes was preening a little on his golden perch in the corner of the office. He was obviously getting close to a burning day, as his feathers were drooping and molting.

He helped himself to a seat in front of the aged Headmaster, and came to the point immediately.

"First things first, Albus. We need the services of Bill Weasley." Dumbledore arched an eyebrow.

"Bill Weasley is currently employed at Gringotts, posted in Egypt. I am on good terms with both him and his parents though. May I ask why we are going to need a curse breaker?"

Harry looked at him curiously. He had always wondered if Dumbledore knew about the curse that Voldemort had placed on the DADA position. Surely it must have aroused some suspicion that he had never been able to keep a defense Professor for more than a year since that fateful evening that he had asked for the post.

"Voldemort came to you and asked for the Defense against the Dark Arts Professorship, many years ago." he made it a statement, since he had already told Dumbledore that the man had used that opportunity to secrete the Diadem in the Room of Requirement.

"He did." confirmed Albus. "I felt that he was too young, and too immersed in the darker aspects of magic to give him the post. He had not yet declared himself a dark lord, and had not started killing people at the time. Yet I had always had my suspicions about him, and didn't want him to have any sort of influence over the young minds that we nurture here."

Harry nodded. He knew that this was the reason that he had denied the young Tom Riddle the post.

"He cursed the position that night, you know. As revenge for your refusal." he informed Dumbledore, while reaching across the desk and taking a sherbet lemon There were two stuck together so he pulled them apart as he observed the sad look on the Headmaster's face.

"I have had my suspicions, of course, but I was never entirely sure. To be completely honest, in the years gone by we haven't really found an instructor worth keeping. I'm afraid that times of peace don't breed good Defense Professors."

Harry nodded, completely understanding that statement. The best teachers he had had in Hogwarts had been Remus Lupin and Mad Eye Moody and Severus Snape. Lupin had spent his life defending himself against people who were biased against his kind, and had honed his skills in the bargain. He had spent some time in the seedier parts of the Balkans, and it had forced him to learn how to defend himself.

Mad Eye had of course actually been Bartemius Crouch Jr. in disguise, but nevertheless the Death Eater had an intimacy with the dark arts had led to him being a good teacher. The actual ex-auror had also proved to be a formidable instructor, and he had helped Harry perfect his skills and practice his wand work.

Severus Snape had been the last teacher he had had worth talking about, since he had a unique teaching style and was immensely knowledgeable. Voldemort had eventually asked Snape to break his cover at the end of that year, and the subsequent murder of Dumbledore had led to Snape being expelled from the castle.

"We need Bill's expertise to negate the curse. I know that either of us has the raw power to do it, but knowing that it was Voldemort who cast the curse, I would prefer an expert to help guide us. It would be a short term project and he may just need to take a few days leave from Gringotts."

Dumbledore nodded. "I myself would prefer to have someone more familiar with curses to take charge of this. We can't afford to make a mistake with it." He took out a piece of parchment, on which he started drafting a message to Bill. He wrote it out, and then passed it over to Harry for his perusal.

 _Dear Mr. Weasley,_

 _I hope this letter finds you in the best of health, and on the cusp of discovering great treasure in Egypt._

 _It has come to my attention that there are certain malignant magics affecting one of the teaching positions of Hogwarts, and would like to consult with you on the matter._

 _We would be delighted to host you for a night or two at the school, while you use your expertise to help us get to the bottom of this. We will, of course, compensate you adequately for your time and services._

 _Hoping for a speedy, positive response,_

 _Sincerely,_

 _Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore,_

 _Order of Merlin, First Class,_

 _Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry,_

 _Supreme Mugwump of the International Federation of Wizards,_

 _Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot._

It was a tad formal, but Harry supposed that in this timeline, Bill was simply an ex-student who was making waves in his field, and not yet a stalwart member of the Order of the Phoenix. In the original timeline, the Weasleys had joined the Order after Ginny's ordeal in the Chamber, once they realized that Voldemort was still a threat.

"Let's hope that this gets to him soon." said Harry, handing the parchment back. He couldn't wait to meet Bill again. In the previous timeline, they had gotten quite close.

Bill had shared several stories of the rarer curses and runes he had come across in Egypt, and had taught Harry a lot about wards and their construction as well as how to detect and break them. He was looking forward to beginning that acquaintance in this timeline. He had to drag his attention back to what Dumbledore was saying.

"Actually Harry, I was wondering if you would be kind enough to send this missive to Bill with one of the school owls.. Merely thinking of the sheer number of steps to the owlery makes me want to cringe." Albus gave a genteel shudder, eliciting a smile from Harry.

Shaking his head at the sometimes obtuse ways that magicals behaved in, he decided that he would call Groffy to take the letter to the owlery later.

He rolled up the parchment and placed it in his pocket.

"So once we deal with the curse on the position, am I correct in assuming that you will take up the post?" Asked Dumbledore, leaning forward hopefully in his chair.

"To be completely honest Headmaster, I don't think that would be the best use of my time. I have a lot to get done and very little time to do it in. I know that the timeline has already been drastically altered and I want to get as much of a head start against Voldemort as possible."

Dumbledore sighed, but nodded resignedly. "I suppose you are right, my boy. I _was_ rather hoping for a competent teacher though, given what we may soon be facing."

Harry nodded, in complete agreement. They needed someone who could bring their students up to scratch, and help create a generation that would not be afraid to stand up to tyranny. He had the perfect man in mind.

"I do have a recommendation for you though. Remus Lupin."

Dumbledore sat back at that, a thoughtful look on his face. It was an interesting notion. With some careful planning around the calendar, it should not be too much of a problem. For as long as the parents and the Board of Governors never found out about the lycanthropy, anyway.

"An inspired choice, Harry. I wouldn't have thought of offering him the position. I do know that he did well on his N.E. , though I honestly don't remember his actual results. However there would still be a few days a month that he would be unable to teach."

"I'll fill in for him on those days, though they'll probably be cut down a lot." said Harry pensively.

The Headmaster had unwittingly revealed to Harry that in the original timeline he had hired Remus because he wanted the man on hand in case Sirius really _did_ turn out to be after Harry. Set a Marauder to catch a Marauder and all that. The man had turned out to be an exceptional teacher though, so it was an unplanned benefit of Dumbledore's scheming.

Seeing that the Headmaster looked curious as to why it would be cut down a lot, he continued.

"You see, in the other timeline, Severus modified and bettered Damocles' Wolfsbane potion. It is more effective, and leaves the user with no ill-effects of the transformation the next day. I happen to know the formula for that potion. Though I can't brew it myself, I'm sure our esteemed Potions Master is more than capable of brewing it."

Albus beamed, absolutely thrilled that Severus had made such an accomplishment in his life. Damocles had received an Order of Merlin, First Class for his work. Improving on it in a tangible manner would probably be worth at least a Third Class award. The recognition would go a long way towards repairing the mans psyche and giving him some of the respect that he had always craved.

He was brought out of his thoughts by an owl tapping on the window. He turned around, seeing Harry's stunned expression, as he too looked out of the window.

Brilliant white in the sunshine, with intelligent amber eyes staring unblinking at Harry, was Hedwig.

"Hedwig!" he exclaimed happily. "I should have known that you would sense that I needed to send a letter!" he jumped up and opened the window, allowing the beautiful snowy owl into the office.

Dumbledore watched their interaction with interest. "Is this your familiar?" he asked Harry curiously. He had never known of a post owl to sense their owner's need like this.

"I honestly don't know." said Harry, stroking her downy plumage. "We've always had a special connection, but isn't one of the prerequisites of a familiar that you can communicate with them?" he asked, looking up at the learned man.

He was nodding, stroking his beard thoughtfully. "True enough, but that bond sometimes takes years and years to form."

"Well I had Hedwig for five years before she was killed by Death Eaters in the previous timeline." said Harry with a frown. "She has always anticipated my needs, sometimes going as far as flying to a person who wanted to get in touch with me."

"Interesting. I've never heard of a post owl being so in tune with their owner. Perhaps you should discuss this with Hagrid. He is one of the foremost experts I know on magical creatures."

Harry nodded. "I surely will." he said, while attaching the letter to Bill to Hedwig's outstretched talon.

"This is for Bill Weasley in Egypt." he informed her, getting a soft hoot in return." He carried her to the window which she had come in from. "Safe flight, girl." he whispered, as she flew out of the window and into the sunshine. He walked back to his recently vacated seat.

"Coming back to our topic, shall I send out a request to Remus about the position?" asked Dumbledore.

"I believe you should, though the confirmation of the post should wait until after Bill has had a chance to take care of the curse. We don't want anything happening to him. Perhaps if he was placed as the Professor on a probationary basis it will negate the effects of the curse."

Dumbledore beamed at him. "A splendid idea, Harry. I shall write to him post haste." he said as he resumed his seat and pulled another parchment out of his drawer.

"I'll leave you to it then." said Harry, standing up. He wanted to revisit the Chamber of Secrets and have a word with Nehustan. He had no other pressing business, until the Ministry or Madam Bones got in touch with him, with regards to the status of Sirius' case.

He made his way to Myrtles bathroom without being accosted, as all the students and staff were busy with their classes. He did think he saw Mrs. Norris for a moment, but she slunk around the corner and disappeared.

The morose ghost was unaccounted for as he made his way to the sink and envisioned a live snake.

" _Open."_ he hissed, though it sounded like English to him. The sink flashed bright and then sunk into itself, revealing the gloomy entrance to the bowels of the school. He slid down the pipe, all the while wondering if Slytherin himself had a more elegant way of entering his chamber. He could hardly imagine the founder sliding through the plumbing.

He walked down the passage way, up to the circular door with the snakes on it, and hissed " _Open_ " once again.

The chamber was dark, but lit up as he walked in, the torches in their sconces flaring to life _._

Hearing not the faintest rustle or hiss, he tentatively called out in what he hoped was parseltongue

" _Nehussstan?"_ There was nothing but silence in the cavernous chamber. He looked around to see if he could spot the giant snake.

It couldn't be too hard to spot after all. His eyes were roving into every nook and cranny, thankful that the serpent's eyes were of no threat to him, when he suddenly jumped in fright.

" _Master, I am in the Great Forest."_ Regulus started violently, as the voice he had heard was _inside_ his head.

" _Nehustan?"_ He thought in bewilderment. " _Where are you?"_

" _I am in the Forest, exalted one. Shall I return?"_ More than a little puzzled at this little telepathic conversation he was having, Regulus simply thought " _No, I have no need of your service right now."_ He _felt_ her assent at that statement.

He was completely baffled as to how he was communicating with the giant serpent, since it was obviously miles and miles away. His recent conversation with the Headmaster about familiars came to mind. Perhaps there was some bond between him and Nehustan that he had been unaware of up until this point.

He walked around the Chamber idly, deciding to talk to Dumbledore about it as soon as he got the chance.

He had some sort of gut instinct that he was missing something down here. The man had clearly named it the "Chamber of Secrets." Granted there was an ancient Basilisk and a few hundred old and rare books but that couldn't be all, he was sure of it.

From the memories he had gleaned from Voldemort, he knew that the man himself had never discovered anything other than the snake and the books. He wasn't sure what he was missing, but he just _knew_ that there was surely something more here.

Taking a chance and wanting to explore the new telepathic connection he had with Nehustan, he gave her a mental call out.

" _Do you know if there is any hidden room within this chamber?"_ he mentally probed, directing his thoughts at it. He wasn't sure how he knew, but he knew that Nehustan had heard him.

" _I remember the Great Salazar saying that within the heart of his chamber lay his secrets, master. Beyond that, I do not truly know."_

" _Thank you."_ He thought distractedly, as he pondered on the fact that her speech lost its sibilant and pronounced hissing factor when projected into his head.

He remembered the inscription that he had seen when he had come down here with Dumbledore, and he headed towards that wall now again.

" _Ssaalazar Ssslytherin."_ he hissed at the wall with the inscription, seeing it flash white and melt away again, leaving the staircase that he had last climbed with Dumbledore.

The green torches flared to life again as he made his way up.

He went through the suite again minutely, looking for things that they had missed. He went towards the bedroom, where the ruined mattress was moldering. They had given this room a cursory glance the last time but had no really looked into it.

Crinkling his nose a little at the smell, he wandered around the room looking carefully at everything. On the far wall he came across a symbol of a snake in a circle, with it's own tail in its mouth. He knew from his spirited and lively discussions with Bill Weasley that this was called an _ouroboros._ He had also come across the symbol when studying a few Alchemy texts that Severus had lent him.

It represented the eternal circle of life, and had been found in numerous Egyptian tombs. From Egypt the symbol had made its way to Greece, and subsequently into Western culture. He was a little taken aback to find it here in the Chamber.

Acting on instinct, he hissed out the founders name again, internally rolling his eyes at the megalomania that his line had shown themselves wont to display.

" _Ssssalasszzaar Sssslyytherin."_ he hissed, the S's rolling out of his maw in an obscene manner. Parseltongue was a grotesque language to speak. He was sure his face was quite unrecognizable as the language contorted his jaw and lips and vocal chords to allow the hissing to be created.

With an ominous grinding sound, the snake in the ouroboros began going round and round, its tail still in it's mouth. After seven turns, the tail popped out of the mouth, and with an audible click, part of the wall swung inward, revealing another passage way.

His mouth dry and his heart rate quickly accelerating with excitement, he pushed the wall open further, and felt a rush of fetid air on his face.

Wrinkling his face a bit at the stale smell the air had, he conjured himself a bubble-head charm. Bill had told him plenty of horror stories from the Egyptian tombs that he had usually found himself scrambling around inside. Sometimes the magic itself mutated into a malignant form, like an directionless curse, that made no allowances for anyone who entered the locale.

He remembered Bill telling him about some muggles who had come across such a tomb before the curse-breakers could get to it, and had suffered traumatic deaths. Howard Carter's expedition and the expeditions led by muggle archaeologist Zahi Hawass had apparently been cursed with magic that had accumulated in the tombs over the millenia, and had mutated into harmful magic that affected anyone who came in contact with it.

Some archaeologists had breathed in spores, ancient bacteria that they had had no immunity to and the dust of eons gone by, and had suffered hallucinations and bleeding lungs and horrible deaths. Hence he prudently activated the charm, and walked into the dark space that had definitely not been opened or ventilated in more than a thousand years.

From his first hesitant steps into the tunnel, it was apparent that Voldemort had never discovered this. Perhaps his sixteen year old self had been satisfied with what he _had_ found in his ancestors chamber, and he had never sought to discover all it's secrets.

Harry thought it most likely that after Myrtle's death, Dumbledore had begun keeping Tom under surveillance and he had never got the chance to come down to the Chamber again during his student career at Hogwarts.

Whatever the reason, he had a gut feeling that he was on the cusp of some great discovery. He walked forward carefully. The same green torches flared to life as he walked, lighting up the tunnel and showing him the dust that was caked on the floors.

The dust rose in pale puffs, and there was a _lot_ of it. He soon found his vision getting impeded by the amount of dust in the air, and thanked himself for the idea of the bubble-head charm. He would have probably had a coughing fit and died down here without it. Smiling at his own dark humor, he raised his wand and cleared as much of the dust from the air as he could, as he walked forward step by step.

From what little he could see of the floor beneath him in the torch light, it was polished black obsidian. Not for the first time, he wondered how Salazar had managed to keep this a secret from the other three, given the vast amount of labor and materials it would have taken to complete this magnificent chamber.

He could see that the tunnel was slowly opening out into a sort of round room, he could only see a portion of it, as he walked forward cautiously.

As he stepped into the room, the torches behind him extinguished, and a bright white light lit up the room.

Harry gasped. It was the ultimate shrine to snakes. There were snake skeletons in glass tanks, and depictions of all kinds of snakes on the wall. The snakes didn't move, but they had been painted with such skill that their eyes had the uncanny knack of seeming to look at him from all angles.

Higher up, there were bas relief carvings of snakes, as well as gods from cultures around the world that had been associated with snakes. He recognized Ophion, the Greek god who had been cast down by Kronos, as well as some Egyptian deities like Wadjet and Ra.

He glanced around in fascination. He also recognized a carving of the Hindu god Shiva, with a cobra draped around his neck. The carvings were isolated pieces, that had obviously been torn from their original positions. This room was a treasure trove of history, and it shocked and amazed him that it had been here in the gloom under the school for a millennium.

The room also had deep indentations in it, as if there were shallow pools in two semi-circles that divided the room into two, with a narrow pathway leading down the middle, to the opposite side of the door he had walked through.

He breath caught in his throat as he saw a sword hanging there on a rack the wall. If he had to be asked, he would have said that this blade was the twin of Gryffindor's sword, except that instead of a Ruby in the pommel, there was an Emerald that drew all the light towards it and sparkled with green intensity.

Just like the sword of Gryffindor, it looked sharp, as if it had been forged just yesterday, and it had the same fuller that made the other blade so light and easy to wield.

He stepped towards it in awe. Drawn to it almost like a magnet. It seemed to be calling out to him. He reached up, and reverently took it off the wall. There was a flash of green and silver sparks as he lifted it, and he felt the warm glow as the sword connected with his magic.

It _felt_ exactly like the other sword, down to the last detail, except that instead of having an inscription of the owner's name, it had a basilisk winding up and down the blade, in exquisite detail.

A second after that, he heard a slight grinding sound, and the lights flickered off and on in the room.

With a lurch, the entire chamber began to rotate, reminding him of the Department of Mysteries. He kept his balance, and a few seconds later, the rotation came to a halt.

Now instead of the rack that had held the sword, he saw a narrow incision, that looked like the sword would fit exactly into it, like some sort of key.

With some trepidation, he eased the sword into the incision, wondering if it was a wise thing to do, since nobody even knew that he was down here. He hesitated, the blade disappearing about half way into the wall.

The with a small shrug, he decided that Slytherin, mad as he had probably been, would probably not have wanted to cause harm to his descendant, knowing that only one of his blood line could be in this place.

He pushed the word in all the way, and heard a small click. He stood back expectantly, releasing his grip on the hilt. He had a small sense of anti-climax, as nothing happened. He stepped back up to the wall. He jiggled the sword a little, and noticed that it had a little give in one direction. He turned the sword counter-clockwise, and heard a click as he completed a whole rotation.

Other than the soft noise, nothing else had changed. Remembering the ouroboros in the bed chamber outside, he began turning the sword, counting out loud. After seven rotations, there was a louder click, and the wall seemed to shimmer a little before fading away completely, displaying a closet sized space.

The center of that space had something that looked like a carved altar, with a rack on it. The rack looked too small to hold the sword, but looked like it was designed for a wand.

However, it was empty.

Harry knew from his discussions with Matthew Steward, that Slytherin's wand had been passed down, and it's last known owner had been Gormlaith Gaunt. It had had the horn of a Basilisk as it's core, and he idly wondered if it was from Nehustan.

He knew that the wand had been made inactive after the fight she had waged with her niece Isolt and her adopted sons, and that it had been buried in America. The wand had spawned an unknown snakewood tree in the spot it was buried, whose leaves had several medicinal properties.

The rack looked like Slytherin had planned to place his wand here, but had not succeeded for whatever reason. Suppressing a shudder at the though of such a wand in the hands of Voldemort, Harry looked around the rest of the space. There was nothing of note, except for a leather bound journal, that was miraculously untouched by the ravages of time. He was careful though, knowing from Bill that ancient documents had a penchant for simply turning to dust when touched.

He placed a preservation charm on it, and gingerly lifted it from where it sat. There didn't seem to be anything else of interest in the space. He stepped back out, and almost stumbled and fell, as the room rotated again, and came to a halt with the sword inside the receptacle for it in front of him. He drew it out, and it made a rasping sound as it slid out of the stone, shining with a joyous light, almost as if it was happy to be handled again.

He looked around the shrine carefully, examining each wall and painting of serpents carefully, anxious not to miss anything. He didn't seem to have missed anything so he carefully hefted the sword in one hand, and pocketing his wand, the journal in the other. He walked softly through the dust laden tunnel, trying to raise as little of it as possible, in the eery green light.

Back tracing his steps, careful to close each wall or door behind him, he finally made his way back to the pipe that led up to Myrtle's toilet. He narrowed his eyes. Surely there was a way to get up.

Acting purely on instinct, he hissed. " _Ssstairrss."._ Before his eyes, the pipe bottom seemed to change shape, becoming a spiral staircase, just like the one in the Headmaster's office tower. He stepped on to it, and it made its ascension into the main part of the school.


	19. Chapter 19

As he made his way through the school, almost running out of the toilet to evade Myrtle, Regulus conjured another scabbard and disillusioned the blade he was carrying.

He was lost in thought as he made his way to his quarters, desperate to get into the journal that he had discovered. It was of course, a significant historical find, but he was quite determined to keep it to himself until he ensured that the information wasn't dangerous in any way.

He entered his chambers, and as if drawn to the blade, immediately revealed it. He drew it's magnificent length out again, and admired it. On a whim, he decided to compare the two blades, and made his way to the side of his bed, where Gryffindor's sword was propped against his nightstand.

He hefted the second sword in his left hand, and stared at the twins in wonder. They were practically identical.

It happened suddenly.

The Emerald on Slytherin's blade was pulsing a deep green, in time with a matching glow from the Ruby on the pommel of Gryffindor's sword. With a deep crackle of magic, a spark seemed to flow between them, and the two gems connected with a deep gold light.

Panicking, Regulus tried to let go of one or both of the swords, completely uncertain as to what was happening. He couldn't seem to drop them. He was forcibly reminded of that fateful night in the graveyard when Voldemort had been resurrected and their wands had connected. There was the same vibration, and the two blades were inexorably drawn towards each other.

He gave a small gasp as he hands were forced together, crossing the two blades. There was a flash of white light, and Regulus knew no more for a while.

Dumbledore was sitting in his office, pondering his youngest and newest friend, when Groffy popped in.

"Headmaster Dumblydore, Sir!" squeaked the elf, wringing his hands together. "Something be happening to the Black master, in the guest chambers!" his eyes were even more huge than they normally were.

With a jolt of fear, the aged Headmaster lurched out of his chair and hurried out of his office.

He entered the guest quarters tentatively, and was amazed to see Harry passed out of the floor, two swords crossed over his heart, looking like one of the knights of old laid to rest.

He seemed to be breathing regularly, and his eyes flickered behind his eyelids, as if he was dreaming.

His lips occasionally moved, as he mumbled something that couldn't be heard. His facial expressions kept changing as well, from a frowning visage to one of grim determination.

Not letting his alarm get the better of him, Dumbledore disillusioned the young man, and levitated him towards the hospital wing. Where had he got the second sword? He wondered as he made his way as quickly as he could, trying to avoid the lunch rush.

Madam Pomfrey was sitting down to an early lunch when he walked into the Hospital wing, and immediately revealed Regulus, and levitated him onto a bed.

"What's he gone and done now?!" she cried in alarm, as she rushed from her seat towards the young man who had only recently left her tender ministrations.

She gave the Headmaster a quizzical look when she saw the two swords, but decided not to move them if the Headmaster had also come to the same decision. She let them be, his knuckles white as he grasped both the hilts.

"I don't honestly know." said Dumbledore quietly, looking at the young man pensively. He seemed to attract strange and ancient magic that hadn't been seen in centuries, and Dumbledore was baffled as to what was happening at the moment. Nothing in his long life had prepared him for dealing with a time-traveler, who was immensely powerful and part of a prophecy.

Madam Pomfrey cast a few diagnostic charms at Regulus, and shook her head in bewilderment.

"Have you tried waking him?" she asked Dumbledore, who shook his head mutely.

"Mr. Black?" she called out. "Mr. Black!" a little louder this time. There was no response.

Dumbledore was gratified that she maintained the deception of him being Regulus Black. He had pulled her aside a day after their courtroom drama and told her that she was in no way to let on that this man was Harry Potter. She had been reluctant, but had eventually acquiesced.

"It seems our young friend has once again left us in the unenviable position of waiting until he comes out of...whatever this is." said Dumbledore, with no small amount of frustration. He knew that under no circumstances could anything happen to Harry before he had dealt with Voldemort. The magical world would be left asunder if Voldemort could rise again, and continue unchecked.

"Please let me know if his condition changes." he requested Poppy softly, as he made his way down to the Great Hall for lunch.

Harry Potter was lost in a magically induced delirium. The magic contained in the two swords contained the essence of the two founders.

As soon as the two gems connected, he felt a huge surge of magic within him, and unbeknownst to himself, gracefully fell to the floor with the two swords crossed across his chest.

Inside his mind, he found himself looking at a Hogwarts that he didn't really recognize. He was on the grounds, yet there was no Whomping Willow, no Quidditch pitch, no Gamekeepers hut, no greenhouses.

There was pristine greenery all around him, and the castle soared up into the sky. The Astronomy tower looked like it hadn't been completed yet. The unfinished parts showed bits of brilliant blue sky between the stone work.

All in all, the castle didn't have the old homely feel he was used to. It looked new, its gray stones not yet weathered by time, and the battlements looking crisp. The gargoyles looked like their faces had just been carved the previous day, and the oak doors he was used to shone with the luster of new wood.

He was completely baffled. He took a few steps towards the doors, when they were suddenly flung open from the inside, and two men walked out, in old-fashioned robes.

His bewilderment changed into shock as he realized that both of them had _very_ familiar swords strapped around their waists.

The first man was a red head, towering at six and a half feet, with a confident stride. His hair was long and left open, and looked like a lions mane as it moved with the wind and the momentum of his strides.

Godric Gryffindor. He gasped in shock. How was this possible?

As he came to the first realization, he turned to the other man. He had long black hair, and a thick black beard reaching down to his chest. A shade over six feet tall, he nevertheless matched the presence of the man walking besides him.

Salazar Slytherin. Impossible.

He stared in mute shock, unable to comprehend what he was seeing, as the two men walked directly towards them. He spent a minute studying the scabbards of their swords. They were of beautiful craftsmanship, worked through with silver and gold threads.

Gryffindor had the head of a lion in stylized gold on his scabbard, with either Rubies or Garnets as the eyes.

Slytherin had a winding serpent on his, fangs bared, with emeralds or some other precious green gem stones as the eyes.

They walked up to him and stood staring at him, not saying a word.

"Er..Hello." said Harry timidly, as the silence became awkward. He was feeling decidedly uncomfortable under the piercing gaze of these two formidable wizards. His brain seemed to have switched off and he was feeling like a five year old who had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

Suddenly, to his surprise the two men bowed as one. He awkwardly returned the gesture.

"Greetings, descendant." said Gryffindor gravely. "I am Godric the Gryffindor, founder of the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Harry swallowed and nodded, about to introduce himself, when Slytherin stepped forward.

"Greetings, descendant." His voice was rough and gravelly, but with the undertones of a hiss. "I am Salazar Slytherin, founder of the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

"Pleased to meet you both." said Harry, feeling ridiculous. These men were _legends._ And more importantly their rivalry was legendary, yet here they stood, shoulder to shoulder, acting as one. Looking to all the world as brothers.

"I am Harry Potter." he said hesitantly. The both inclined their heads.

"Come." said Gryffindor, with a gesture of welcome towards the school. "We have much to talk about."

They turned and walked towards the school, and Harry quietly followed them, having given trying to figure out how this was happening and how he had got here. The last thing he remembered was the two swords being drawn towards each other.

As he walked into the Great Hall, Harry stared around in wonder. The great ceiling had not yet been enchanted, and he could see the beams of wood that latticed the high ceiling. There were no House tables yet, just one long table at the top of the room.

It was to this table that the two men led him. Sitting down on one side and offering him the other, Harry felt he was about to be interviewed.

"So it has happened at last." intoned Gryffindor, tapping his fingers on the tabletop in front of him.

"The bloodlines of Gryffindor and Slytherin have crossed, and the prophecy can be fulfilled."

At his side, Slytherin was nodding, stroking his long black beard in a manner very reminiscent of Dumbledore. Harry noticed that Slytherin had green eyes. Not quite the same shade as his, but a little dull. Nevertheless they shone with an intensity that he had come to relate with a fanatic or a madman. What struck him the most was the complete lack of resemblance to the statue he saw in the Chamber of Secrets. This man was handsome in a rustic way, and carried himself with charisma.

He seemed completely sane sitting at the table with the other two, at the moment.

"I don't understand." said Harry tentatively, gesturing all around him helplessly. "Where am I? _When_ am I?"

The two men chuckled a little. It was Salazar who answered him.

"Simply put, you are within your own mind, brought into a _memory_ or a stored essence if you will. The only way this could have happened is if you are the rightful heir to both the Slytherin and Gryffindor lines, and could wield both our swords."

As one, they drew their magnificent blades, and placed them on the table in front of them.

Harry looked at the two. They looked exactly the same as when he had last seen them, according to these _memories_ , a thousand years from now, give or take. His attention turned back to Godric. He was itching to ask what prophecy they were referring to.

"I'm still lost." he said, wondering if his face showed how confused he was. "What prophecy are you talking about?"

Godric had a far away look in his eyes as he began explaining.

"What you see now, Hogwarts at the beginning, actually transpired about a hundred years ago according to our memories. Salazar was cursed by his own grandson, a man with no morals and a desire for unlimited power." he paused, gratified to see that he had an absolutely rapt audience of one. Slytherin was looking sad, and angry at the same time.

"You see, Salazar married a girl of Mundane blood, and their son Sylven followed suit. The son of Sylven though, Selwynn, did not like the fact that his ancestry was "sullied" by Mundane blood. He somehow came to the conclusion that it made his magic less _pure_ as say – the magic of my line. I, myself was married to Rowena Ravenclaw, another founder of this school. Our children were taught to respect magic, and to make no discrimination against first time magic users."

Harry listened in fascination. He couldn't believe that Slytherin had been married to a muggle-born, or a Mundane as they seemed to term them here. It went against everything that he thought he knew. To find out that the son of that union had also married someone of muggle heritage, was also mind-blowing. Harry was beginning to wonder where the idea of Slytherin's pureblood mania had come from.

Salazar took up the tale in his raspy voice. "My grandson Selwynn lusted the grand-daughter of Helga Hufflepuff, the fourth founder of our school. When Agnes spurned him for one of Mundane heritage, he lost his mind."

Both the men looked extremely troubled, as they retold this tale of unrequited love and corruption by power.

"Selwynn killed the man that Agnes Hufflepuff loved, and then went on a rampage, trying to kill every person he knew who had Mundane blood in them." Salazar sighed. "You must understand, at this point, almost all the bloodlines had some Mundane blood in them, there just weren't that many magicals who could have increased our numbers. Since the time of Merlin, we have always intermarried with those who had magic in their blood."

Godric placed a comforting arm on Salazar's shoulder. "I remonstrated with Selwynn, and he declared a blood fued on me and mine, swore an oath on magic that our lines would forever be in conflict, and that Mundane lovers such as myself and his grandfather would be destroyed in one way or another. I banished him from the school."

Slytherin stood up, and began pacing. His walk was sinuous, like a weaving cobra. He seemed to be getting agitated recounting this tale.

"I loved my grandson. Despite his faults, despite his crimes I loved my grandson. I tried to reason with him. To beg him to end this madness. Unfortunately, his magical powers seemed to be greater than mine. He came up with a _curse._ A spell that took away the will of the person it was cast against." he sighed as he resumed his seat.

"Our words gave way to anger, and he drew his wand on me. We dueled. I was being defensive, still trying to get through to the boy I had loved. His insanity had taken that boy away forever. He struck me with his curse, and for eighty long years of my life I labored under it, trying to fight it off."

 _Imperious._ Thought Harry immediately. He was listening to an account of the first use of the _imperious_ curse. But eighty years?

He voiced his concern. "I..I believe I'm familiar with the magic you speak off, yet I know that it can be overcome, with will power and a strong mind."

He regretted his words as he saw the anguish on the face of Slytherin. The man looked at him evenly.

"You must understand, Harry Potter, that I myself had reservations about those of Mundane blood." seeing the puzzlement on his face, he continued.

"Yes, I married a Mundane, as did my son after me, but there was always a doubt in my mind about the wisdom of allowing them into our society. They were much too influenced by the Mundane way of life and thought. I had always had my reservations, and his curse played on them. It enhanced that small doubt."

Harry understood. It was always more difficult to fight off the curse when you were being told to do something that you could have possibly done anyway. It helped relax inhibitions after all, and was easiest to fight when what you were being told to do went against your intrinsic nature.

"Selwynn knew that he had neither the standing, nor the respect of the community to further his cause, and to my eternal shame, he used me as his puppet. He had me spouting _his_ beliefs, and propagating the idea that _pure_ blood was magically stronger, and more desirable."

Godric looked sadly at his friend, whose enchantment had led to them becoming enemies.

"Eventually, the other three founders could not stand my biases anymore, and asked me to leave the school. I did, and was then used by my grandson as a soldier in his war against the Mundane. He controlled me in every way. I fought tirelessly against the curse, but to no avail. Nothing like it had ever been seen before. It seemed unbeatable."

Harry swallowed. He had always found throwing off the curse easy, especially if he had no trust towards the person who had cast it. He assumed that over the years, the style of casting had changed, and the imperious he knew was but a pale shadow of the curse that had been invented by this descendant of Slytherin. If it could ensnare the mind of one of the most powerful wizards in history, it must have been something indeed. He turned back, as Godric picked up the tale.

"For decades, our community was at war with each other, with Salazar appearing to spearhead the belief that pure blood was better. Eventually, we dueled, my brother and I."

Seeing Harry's startled look when he said "brother", he explained with a small smile. "We aren't natural brothers, but after a lifetime of friendship and enemies vanquished and achievements made together, we are brothers in all but blood. Selwynn corrupted that. He used that against us."

Godric looked angry now, and his hair seemed to move a little with an unseen wind.

"We dueled, and I defeated my brother, who later told me that he had tried not to harm me in any way. Unfortunately the spell I used struck a mortal blow, and he had only a few hours to live. In those hours he told me of his fate, and explained that it was his grandson and not him that had been doing the terrible deeds that our community had come to fear over the last few decades."

"It was in that moment of confession, that my wife Rowena, who was a Seeress, came forward with this prophecy:"

"Blood shall be spilled, brother shall fight brother,

the Lion and the Snake forever against one another.

But hope shall be born in the future of time

a man of not one, but both of your lines

with him shall end the curse, the madness, the plague

and all blood will be honored, and treated the same."

Harry digested this second, and far older prophecy that seemed to mention him. In his head he heard a plaintive cry. "Why me." He was beginning to understand now how Voldemort seemed drawn to him, and how another Seer had made a prophecy that ensured that he would face Voldemort. He was destined not just to stop the madman, but to help end the blood supremacy forever. It seemed a daunting task.

"We knew at that moment that it had to be recorded, and this yet unborn descendant of ours had to know the truth. That we were as brothers until split asunder by the ambitions of one man. And now it appears that you have come to us, and we have much to tell you. But for now, rest. You don't need nourishment, as you are inside your own mind. We shall talk again in a few hours, though but seconds will pass for you in your time. Rest.

With those final words, the two men left him at the table, pondering the unimaginable truths he had uncovered this day.


End file.
